


Sliding Under

by bronzetaraj



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: BAMF Lydia Martin, F/M, lydia and stiles bromance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-20
Updated: 2014-03-09
Packaged: 2018-01-09 08:51:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 35,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1143987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bronzetaraj/pseuds/bronzetaraj
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles just wanted to apologize to Lydia about the last few weeks, he never expect this to happen! Fuck his life!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is basically a crazy thing that came out of a conversation with a friend of mine before 3B started about "what would happen if I started Truth and Consequences now". As most of you know that started as an episode tag and I was frustrated by a lot of the things not discussed by 3A so this kind of happened. I know what I want to do with it, but it will be a little under nourished until I finish T&C. Please let me know what you thing and if you think I should continue. If I don't get feedback, I may drop it. Thanks ahead of time, Taraji

Chapter 1

Staring at the door with a sense that could only be described as foreboding, Stiles jiggled his keys in his hand idly, trying to summon up the courage to knock on the damn door. Part of him was apprehensive because he felt like a shit friend. Once again they had all ignored Lydia in this supernatural shit show that had become their life. He had ignored Lydia. Deep down he knew that, while he loved Scott in a way one can only love family, Scott tended to not see the big picture; he saw all problems and people in his very simple black and white world. It was part of what made him a truly good person, but it was also what tended to make him a selfish friend. He often overlooked the pain and struggles of the others for the 'greater good'-- whatever the fuck that meant. Stiles knew that better than anyone because he was often the one getting shafted. Lydia seemed to get that, she looked past the chaos and saw Stiles' own turmoil. She had brought him back from the overwhelming, crushing pain of his own mind and for that he owed her. 

Scoffing to himself, he sure as hell owed her better than to ask her to be his anchor from the afterlife and then all but abandon her after he got his dad back. Stiles was smart, actually Lydia was probably the only person who understood just how smart he was because she was the only person who was smarter than him in their little pond. He knew that over the past year she had lost just as much as they all had-- maybe more. Her safe world of science and logic and mind-numbingly vapid popularity had all been shattered. She had been attacked by Peter, tortured and violated for months while all of her “friends” turned on her and the only people who could explain what was going on lied to her. No one ever said it, but they were just as guilty as Peter was for allowing him to haunt Lydia. They lied to her about what happened, ignored the pain and terror that she lived in. They let let her think that she was crazy instead of taking the time to pull her into the fold. 

Scott would tell you that it was protecting her, that he was trying to keep her safe from Derek and his pack, but the truth was Scott felt like everything was his fault. He thought that he couldn't protect her from Peter and if he didn't tell her what happened to her, then it wasn't his fault if she got hurt. The thing is, Scott is the only person who could have empathized with Lydia. They were both attacked by the same psycho. They were both violated and hunted by him. But somehow Scott couldn't see that. Somehow he thought that letting her suffer alone was better, and that was seriously fucked up. 

Not that the rest of them were any better. Stiles knew what was going on, he knew about Jackson and Peter and everything else that was going on and he just nodded along with Scott because he was so afraid of losing his best friend to this new world of theirs. He could admit it now, Stiles tried so hard to make himself useful to Scott because he was afraid that Scott would realize that he and Stiles, they weren't alike anymore. They weren't the goofy outcast. The only children of single parents who worked too much. Scott was a werewolf. A fucking werewolf. He had all of this power and this new group of people that were like him; every time Scott was a dick to Derek, Stiles cheered just a little bit but every time he saw Scott and Isaac together his heart clinched. Looking again at the door in front of him, he sighed. 

All of that worrying about Scott and he had lost Lydia in the shuffle. He knew how lost she felt, how confused. Not only had she been throw into this world, she had had her own world ripped apart before the truth was finally shared with her. She had been forced to bring Peter back, had watched Jackson die and the brought him back only to have him abandon her. She had been rudderless all summer, sleeping with random guys and acting totally aloof to her friends. 

Stiles wasn't stupid, he didn't believe in slut shaming because, honestly, if he was a girl he would fuck anything on legs but he knew that was not what Lydia was doing. She was clearly looking for an escape. Once she started nailing the Alpha twin it was a statement, one he not sure everyone else understood. She was letting them know that they didn't control her and that she wasn't necessarily on their team. The worst part was that they had used her, used her ability to find the bodies but once they found out what she was, that she was a Banshee, they didn't even attempt to help her figure out what that meant. Once again she was left on her own while Stiles tried to vie for Scott's attention over Isaac and Scott tried to figure out what it meant to a true alpha and Allison reformed the hunters, Lydia was alone. Lost without even a shred of understand about who or what she was. 

None of them have heard from her in weeks. She avoided them at school at first but then she just seemed to have vanished. He overheard some teachers talking about sending work home yesterday and he knew that he needed to see her. She was his friend and he needed to make sure that she was going to be okay. Scoffing to himself, was okay even an option for any of them anymore? 

Looking at the door again, he sighed. What the hell was he even planning on saying to her? Hey, sorry I have been a self centered dick, want to be friends now? Before he could talk himself into or out of knocking the door it swung open, “Oh,” Mrs. Martin blinked at him, “I, uh.” she quirked her head in the same way Lydia did, “Stiles, is it?”

Trying to cover his shock, he nodded, “Yes ma'am,”

“You must be here to see Lydia,” she surmised, he nodded, attempting a smile, “Well I am just on my way out, but maybe you can get her to come out of her room.” She scoffed, “She has been locked away up there all week, I can't even get her to come out to eat.” Smiling at him like she is happy that there is someone else there to deal with her difficult daughter, “Head on up. Tell her there is food in the fridge if she is hungry.”With that she moves past him and he can't help but wonder what she must think is going on with her daughter.

Of any of them, Lydia had taken the most physical damage. Obviously Scott and Derek had been hurt, but their injuries don't exactly lead to hospital stays and scars. Lydia's had, in many ways. Her mother's flippant attitude was probably just her way of coping with a kid that was more fucked up in more ways than she could ever understand or deal with. 

With another sigh, Stiles tucked his hands in his pockets and mounted the stairs, trying to come up with a way to ask Lydia how she was doing without having her turn all Lydia- ice queen on him. He had been in her room a few times, once she had even invited him to stay, but when he had turned her down—not because he wasn't interested, cause God knows he had imagined that about a million times, in graphic detail that he would never share-- but because he knew that her invitation had more to do with her trying to settle something in her head than it did with him. Remembering that moment, he cringed, he should have stayed and gotten her to talk to him. That was the first time that he saw the real cracks in the facade. 

He had always known that there was more to Lydia than she put out there, that she was brilliant and powerful in ways maybe even she didn't understand, but she was starting to splinter under the weight of all of this bullshit that seemed to continue to rain down on them. The lies and the pain and the fear and the constant betrayal and abandonment were crushing her and something in her eyes that night told him so. But he was too scared, too insecure to stay and be her friend so he had run, abandoning her like everyone else.

Her door was locked when he tried it. He knocked softly, not wanting to scare her but when she didn't answer it started to worry him. He knocked again, knowing that her mother had said she was in there.   
“Lydia, its Stiles,” he said, resting his hand on the door and listening for any sounds of movement in the room. Not for the first time he wished that he was a werewolf because it would make some things so much easier, you know like knowing if someone was in a room. “Lyd, just open the door if you are in there, I need to talk to you.”

After another moment he took a deep breath and hoped that she didn't own a gun. Using his drivers license, he made quick work of opening the lock on her bedroom door and pushing it open. Looking around the dark room, Stiles nearly missed her. The bed was a mess and there were old books and notes scattered everywhere. The occasional empty water bottle and office supply scattered between them, her purple laptop discarded in the tangled blankets of the bed. It was a mess akin to what he would expect to find in his own room, but certainly not in Lydia's tightly controlled universe. 

On his second pass over the mess, Stiles spotted the redhead in question, curled in the far corner of the room, her back pressed against the wall, knees tucked under her chin with her arms gripped tight around them, as if she was trying to physically hold herself together. Her hair was a mess, piled on top of her head in a loose bun, her face free of make up and puffy from crying. She did not turn towards him, her face highlighted by the full moon as she stared out of the window, the hollow, haunting expression on her face a stark contrast to vibrant colors of the room. 

Stiles can feel his mouth opening and closing but he cannot find the words to start this conversation. He doesn't even know what this conversation is. He came here to apologize for being a bad friend and to maybe reach out an olive branch and figure out how to make sure that Lydia was included in pack business so that she didn't get left out anymore. He wanted to volunteer to help her research banshees and work with her on who and what she was in this supernatural supernova that had enveloped them the same way he had for Scott, but looking at her, he knew that she needed more than his sorry ass Yoda routine to fix this.

Her voice sounded tired when it interrupted his internal monologue, “Do you know what they call the male banshee?” She asks, her gaze not leaving the window.

Jerking his head a bit he almost scoffed at the ridiculousness of her question, “What?” 

She lets out a dry chuckle that sounds oddly broken, “Nothing. They don't because there are no male banshees, there is simply no need.” Finally turning towards him, her eyes are cold, “I am a harbinger of death, the wailing woman, outside of the world, never part of the family but really useful at predicting the end of one,” she deadpans. “I am a creature of death.” Her voice cracks and she brings her hand to her mouth to try to hold in the sobs.

Looking around Stiles spots the copies of book pages and printouts, all dotted with Lydia's neat, exact handwriting, circles and lines all dealing the versus histories and myths of the banshee. 

Stepping forward slowly, his hands in front of him as if he was approaching a rabid animal instead of a 100 pound girl. “Lydia,” he whispers, “that is the myth but, myths are not always right. Just look at the wolves, they are not the same.” He lowers himself to his knees, kneeling on the floor beside her, “We will figure this out, just like we have figured out everything else.”

Finally making eye contact for the first time, she just cries. Her whole body shakes as slumps forward into his chest, his arms wrapping around her involuntarily. Rubbing her back, trying to offer any little comfort that he can.

“I am a creature of death,” she murmurs against is chest, “37 different cultural legends and they all say the same thing; a banshee is a woman abandoned. A creature of death and pain who is always alone. How could this have happened?” She explained through her tears in a voice bordering on panic. 

Rubbing her back, he whispers comforting noises into her hair to calm her down because even he can hear her heart racing. After a while, she seems to calm a bit, still holding her, Stiles asks, “Lydia, what happened?”

Sniffling a bit, she leaned back, “I,” her chin shook as she tried to form the words, “I'm pregnant,” she whispered almost as if she didn't believe it herself. Leaning back, she unfurls herself and stands, placing Stiles' face nearly level with her slightly rounder belly now poking out of her black yoga pants. 

A complete lack of poetry could be found in his mildly shocked, “Uh.” At the sight.


	2. Changing Light

Chapter 2

“Uh. That is all you have to say,” Lydia scoffed as she pulled herself together. Wiping her face with her hands, she breathed a deep breath, belly expanding and contracting as Stiles watched in fascination. When she opened her eyes again, she was the Lydia he was used to. Take charge, commanding and scary. As she crossed the room to grab a bag out of the closet she squared her shoulders and Stiles knew that it was going to be be a wide ride. 

Blinking a few times Stiles realized that she was no longer standing in front of him, turning his head he watched as she started packing books into the bag. Dropping from his knees to sit on the floor completely, Stiles opened and closed his mouth a few times, trying to find the right words to figure out what the hell was going on. Lydia was pregnant. It seemed so weird, not that one of his friends was pregnant necessarily because as the evil Druid had proven he was the lone virgin among them, but that it was Lydia. She seemed too smart for this. Getting pregnant at seventeen was something that dumb girls did, girls who ended up on bad reality shows and waiting tables to pay rent in a trailer park. Not girls who were geniuses or girls who were going to win the fields metal. “Wait, so you have been skipping school for the past week because you found out you are pregnant?”

Looking up from the bag she was packing, Lydia fixed him with a bored stare, “Please Stiles I am 17 weeks, I have known for a while.” She scoffed and of course she had, Lydia knew everything. 

“A while, 17 weeks,” He muttered, “Lydia were you planning to tell any of the rest of us?” He awkwardly stood up from the floor and rearranged his over shirt. 

“I wasn't aware that the happenings of my uterus were of particular interest to the pack,” she spit the word as if it had personally offended her.

“Wait, what?” he physically shook his head as if that would help him follow this conversation, “Why, Lydia I know that I have been a shit friend lately and that is why I am here to apologize. I mean I get that you had this whole banshee thing just dropped in your lap and none of us really helped you,” he began, trying to get back to the reason he had come here to start with. “But we all care about you and we will all be here for you,”  
She spun around from the closet were she was shoving more things in the bag, “No,” she snapped, pulling a purple hoddie over her head, effectively hiding her belly, “You don't 'get that this banshee thing was dropped in my lap' and you sure as hell don't all care about me, or each other. You are all so self absorbed and short sighted that you can never see beyond the happenings of the moment. You and Scott and Allison rushed into a ritual that you didn't understand to save your parents without a second thought to the consequences but you couldn't work together to save your pack members,” she charges.

“Lydia, Boyd and Erica where, there was nothing that we,” he stammered.

“Bullshit!” She yelled and he actually jumped, “If Scott would have gotten his head out of his ass and dealt with his shit or Derek could have just asked for help, he and Derek could have been working together all along. Boyd and Erica wouldn't have gotten taken to start with and Jackson may not have had to die. Maybe he would have stayed,” her fury fell off a bit as she sat down the bag with a sigh, trying to regain her composure. 

“Lydia,” Stiles took a few steps forward, “I know you must miss him. Does, um,” he looked down before looking back at her, “Does he know? You know,” he gestured forward a bit, “About the baby?”

Looking down at her own, still relatively small belly, she looked confused for a moment before looking back at Stiles, “Stiles, I am 17 weeks pregnant, Jackson has been gone six months.”

Quirking his head, realization dawned, “Oh, so, he is not, I mean, the baby isn't his?”  
“No,” Lydia said slowly, as if he were suddenly very stupid. 

“Oh, uh, well,” how was he supposed to say this without sounding like a complete ass, “Do you, I mean of course you, you know, know who the father is,” he fiddled with his hands.

Her glare became cold as she zipped closed the bag a looked at him, “Of course I do.” she snapped before walking into her bathroom. Returning she dropped something into a side compartment and grabbed a wooden box off of the vanity, placing it in the same side compartment before zipping it and grabbing her phone. Sighing, she turned to Stiles, “Yes I know who the father is, yes my mother knows I am pregnant, no I am not going to discuss this any further. Now,” she tossed the strap of the bag over her shoulder, “Do you have a passport?”

Shaking his head again at the breakneck speed of this conversation he repeated, “Huh?”

“A passport,” her eyes widened, “Do you have one?”  
“Yeah but what”

She cut him off, “We can stop by your hour house to grab it and an overnight bag but you cannot take more than 15 minutes, we're on schedule.” She informed him as she turned on her heel and marched out of the room. Stiles had yet to connect the pieces from the girl who was crying in his arms twenty minutes ago and the this version of Lydia, when she bellowed “Stiles!” up the stairs he pulled his keys from his pocket and jogged down the stairs. 

“Take your car to your house, I will meet you there. Make sure you are not being tailed,” She said curtly as she climbed into her mother's SUV and he could only follow her instructions. Pulling up to his own house a few minutes later, he entered the house only after Lydia pulled up across the street. She was on the phone so he just nodded and wondered into the house. Grabbing a bag he kept for emergencies and a first aide kit, Stiles got his passport out of the desk in his father’s office and paused for a moment. He knew that he had to leave a note but what could he tell his father 'Leaving the country with Lydia. Don't know where or why but she is pregnant and unstable and I am scared to leave her alone....' Yeah that wasn't going to work. He settled on Dad, I am helping Lydia for the next few days so I won't be around. I will call you with updates. I love you, Stiles

Rubbing his forehead Stiles swallowed the guilt of leaving his father, once again, to worry about him with only an evasive note to attempt to explain the things that Stiles no longer understood himself. Breathing a tired sigh, Stiles picked up his bag and jogged outside. When he approached Lydia's SUV, he was surprised to see a passenger in the car. Opening the backdoor, he tossed the bag in and climbed in after it, only then noting that Isaac was in the passenger seat. Looking at Lydia in the rear view mirror, he scoffed “Isaac? Seriously, Senor scarf is going with us?”

“Fuck you,” Isaac snarked from the front seat. 

“Fuck you,” Stiles snapped back. 

Rolling her eyes, Lydia sighed, “You two can fuck each other later. Or better yet, both of you can fuck Scott and move passed this your homoerotic triangle bromance bullshit after we go get Derek okay.”

“What,” Stiles looked at her, “Derek? We are going to get Derek? We need passports to go get Derek?”

“Yes,” she answered curtly as she turned the key and started down the road. After a few minutes, Stiles asked, “So why are we going to get sourwolf?”

“Because,” she answered, her annoyance with his questions clear, “Someone is trying to kill him and we all know how self preservation is not exactly a skill he possesses.”  
Isaac snicked from his seat, nodding. 

“O-Kay,” Stiles hated feeling like he was missing something, “Derek left with his sister like two months ago and somehow I don't think you and Cora are pen pals so how, exactly, do you know that someone is trying to kill him. I mean aside from his overall charming personality and homicidal taste in women.”

Lydia tensed but knew he wouldn't shut up until she gave him an answer so she relented, “What do you know about banshees Stiles?”

“Um,” he was clearly uncomfortable at being called out, “I know that you scream for death and that most legends say you are part of the fae” He attempts an answer.  
Scoffing she corrects, “Yeah, thanks wikipedia. Banshees are tied to particular families. The Celtic legends say that each of the original families has their very own banshee. The thing that most origin legends seem to leave out is that each of the families are supernatural somehow. Some were Druids, some were fey, others,”  
“Were werewolves,” Stiles finishes, catching on.  
Nodding she sends him a sly smile in the review mirror as she pulls onto another freeway, “Exactly. Wanna guess who one of those families was?”

“The Hales,” Stiles rolls his eyes.  
“Right again,” she changes lanes, “Because of proximity or pack or whatever, it would seem that I am the Hale's banshee. So when one of them is in trouble, I know.” The bitterness in her voice bleeds through her flippant tone.  
They ride for while in silence, Lydia focused on the road and Isaac staring intensely out the window. For his part, Stiles sat in the back dumbfounded, trying to process all of the crazy that his life has become. Lydia is the banshee for the Hale pack. The Hale pack who was a wise and old family reduced to a zombie psycho, a professional brooder and the angriest teenage girl Stiles had ever met. And Lydia was their banshee. Their pregnant banshee. Lydia was pregnant. Lydia was a banshee. And he was allowing her to drive him and bitch- wolf to a foreign county. Wait, he leaned forward, “Where the hell are we going anyway?”  
Both Isaac and Lydia jumped a bit at his voice, looking back at him, Isaac rolled his eyes and returned to staring out the window. Lydia gave an exasperated sigh and answered, “Mexico.”  
“Mexico?” Stiles started, “We are going to Mexico. Why is Derek in Mexico? Did he leave Beacon Hills to work for a drug cartel because being menacing is like the only job skill he seems to have. Is that why someone is trying to kill him? He messed up a drug smuggling ring and now el hefa is going to wack him?” Stiles rambled.  
“I think you are mixing your culturally offensive stereotypes there,” Isaac muttered.  
“What?” Stiles was confuse at the interruption in his rant, then thinking about what the other boy said he nodded, “Maybe, but still why is Derek about to get killed in Mexico?”  
Gripping the wheel tighter, Lydia bit out, “I don't know yet,” as she followed the GPS on her phone and took an exit.  
“So you have no idea who is trying to kill him or why they are trying to kill him but we are traipsing off to a foreign country to help? Did you ever think maybe he is a freaking werewolf, with his werewolf family and he can take care of himself?” Stiles yelled.  
Suddenly the car jerked to the side of the road, horns blaring as the passed by the car as Lydia brought it to an abrupt stop. Jumping out of the car, she slammed the door before bolting to the field off the shoulder of the road. Staring after her for a moment, Stiles sighs and follows her, “Lydia,” he calls after her, flinching when he hears her start to vomit. Grimacing, he approaches her and kneels beside her. She is on her hands and knees, one hand pathetically trying to hold her her hair out of her face while the other shakily supports her body weight. Gently brushing stray hairs out of the way, Stiles pulls her hair back with his left hand, using his right hand to awkwardly rub her back. After a few more moments of gagging, Lydia drops back on her haunches, panting for breath.  
“Are you alright?” Stiles asks tentatively, still rubbing her back.  
Gulping in air, she nods, “Um, yeah, I will be fine.”  
“So,” he looks down, “Is this like morning sickness or something?” He quirks an eyebrow at the darkness surrounding them.  
Chuckling a bit, she shrugs, “Morning sickness is supposed to end with the first trimester. I don't know what this is, all I know is that she is not happy with me right now,” she looks down and rubs her hand across her belly. It was the first time Stiles had seen her acknowledge the baby beyond telling him that she was pregnant. He knew something else was going on but he was afraid to ask her. Honestly he was afraid of what her answer might be.  
“I'm sorry I upset you, I just, I need to know what is going on,” he tried to explain.  
“No,” she said, “you don't need to know what is going on, you want to know what is going on, there is a difference. I needed to know what was going on when my boyfriend was killing people, when I was in direct danger, but none of you told me,” her voice was not angry, it was just sadly detached. “And then you let me hook up with the enemy without telling me what was really going on, I had sex with the person who killed Boyd,” Wiping her mouth, Lydia stood on slightly wobbly legs, “Look Stiles, I know I dragged you along and I am not even sure why, you just,” she looked back at him, still kneeling beside her vomit somewhere in a field in Arizona and she smiled sadly, “You are the only person who is even trying to be my friend right now and I know I am not making it easy but thank you.” She crossed her arms over herself and he just nodded, understanding the loneliness and sadness he saw in her eyes, “I kept having dreams about, well honestly I didn’t know what they were about at first, but then I started getting this overwhelming feeling that something was wrong,”she looked up at him, “Like I do when I need to scream. Finally I saw Derek in the dreams and I knew,” she had began to pace a bit, “I knew that he was in danger. I tried calling him and Cora, hell I even tried to contact Peter, but it didn't work. Phones numbers were dead and I didn't know anything about where they would have gone.”  
“So you went to Isaac,” he surmised and she nodded, “Yeah, I figure if anyone could find Derek it was Isaac. But he didn't know either.”  
“I didn't know he was leaving,” Isaac said, his voice barely a whisper over the noise of the highway but the pain in his words hit them both, “Derek had tried pushing me away, he thought that it was the only way to keep me safe from the Alpha pack. That is how I ended up staying with Scott but,” he looked at the hard desert soil, his hands buried in his pockets, “We had an argument when Cora was sick, I,” he toed more insistently at the dirt, “I said some things that I wish I hadn't. I didn't realize he was gone until a few days after he had left. I thought they would be back soon, but,” sighing he looked up, “Lydia came to me a few weeks ago, she asked if I could find him. I tried but I couldn't so I put her in contact with someone who could.”  
“Who?” Stiles asked, finally standing.  
“Braeden.” Isaac answered, “She is the woman who saved me from the Alpha pack. We stayed in contact and I knew that if anyone could find a werewolf no one wanted to be found that she could, so Lydia contacted her.”  
“She actually remembered me from the time she bruised my arm,” Lydia rolled her eyes, “She is not trusting and she is expensive but once she knew that I was not trying to hurt the Hales and that we were on the same side, she said she would help. She called me earlier and told me that she had found them. She is moving to get them out in the morning and we need to be in place in case anything goes wrong or she needs help. We will have to move fast once we get them back because we don't really know what we are dealing with.”  
“So Mexico?” Stiles nodded.  
“Yeah, little boarder town outside of Sonora, that is where she traced them to. There is a family of hunters there, but they aren't like the Argents,” Isaac explains.  
“So they are sane?” Stiles snaps.  
“Not so much, but they don't have a code, they are more mercenaries and fortune hunters. We don't know why they want Peter and Derek but I know we have to get them back before someone dies.” Lydia explained.  
Nodding Stiles approached her, “Okay,” he pushed her hair back again and kissed her forehead, “We get them back.”  
Once Isaac had entered the car, Stiles looked at Lydia, “Does he,” he tilted his head, “know?” he looked to her midsection.  
“I think so, but I haven't told anyone but you and my mom and I would like to keep it that way.”  
Nodding Stiles followed her back into the car where Isaac was now driving. Sighing as he leaned back into the seat he couldn't help the sense of dread the bubbled up in his stomach. This was going to be a bumpy ride.  
In the middle of the Mexican desert Derek could not hold back the scream as 6000 volts passed through his body again. He was tired and hungry and in more pain than anyone ever needed to be in but beyond all of that, he knew he was going to die. He was going to die and the only person who was going to be with him was Peter. As his uncle rambled on inanely beside him he thought about how the man had been present for every single tragedy of Derek's life. He had been the cause of many and but he had been the one constant so maybe it was fitting that the last tragedy of his life was spent with the man he would never understand. He felt himself start to lose consciousness as gunshots sounded in the distance.


	3. Blue Smoke

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few people have asked about couples for this story, I will not tell you yet but if you have read my other stories, you may be able to figure it out :-)!

Chapter 3

Two hours later Stiles was driving, blindly following the GPS as Lydia had set it while Isaac slept in the backseat and Lydia dosed in the passenger seat. While Isaac was laid out across the backseat, face twitching every now and then reacting to what Stiles like to think were the bunnies he was chasing in his dreams, Lydia was curled into herself, head propped on her fist against the window, the other hand curled protectively around the slight bump between her hips, face tense. Looking at her he sighed. He knew something was going on with her, something beyond this ridiculous mission to save the Hales from whatever bullshit situation that they had gotten themselves into now. Stiles also knew Lydia and he knew that she was too smart and too meticulous to go into this situation blind. She was playing some other angle even if she didn't want to share it with Stiles just yet. Glancing back at her he worried at the way her brow tensed and her hand clutched tighter over her belly. She was scared of something and that worried him because Lydia rarely ever feared anything. She liked to be in control of everything in her world, that control kept her safe and right now she looked as if she felt anything but safe.

For nearly half an hour, the car was quiet, then Lydia gave a sudden jerk as she cried out. Turning his head, Stiles instinctively throws his right arm out to brace her in her seat as he quickly pulled off of the abandoned highway. Just as he brought the car to a stop Lydia started to scream, her eyes flying open and her whole body tensing. Before he realized that Isaac was even awake, the other boy had jumped out of the car and was pulling Lydia's door open. Stiles aided him by unlatching her seat belt.   
“Lydia,” Isaac barked as he grabbed her shoulders firmly, “Lydia can you hear me?”  
Stiles winced at her scream so he could only imagine what it sounded like to Isaac but he leaned in closer to the girl, rubbing her back as he whispered, “Lydia, if you can hear us try to calm down.”  
Looking to Isaac who, for once, looked completely terrified, “I don't think she can stop the scream once she starts.”   
Just as Isaac looks like he is going to crawl out of his skin, Lydia stops screaming and, still panting, stares straight ahead, bracing her arms ion the dashboard. 

“Lydia, what was that?” Stiles asks gently, still rubbing her back.   
Looking towards him, her eyes wide and glassy she blinks slowly, like she doesn't know if she is awake or still dreaming. 

“Lydia,” Isaac asks quietly, “Does that mean that Derek,” the wolf looks down, “Is he,” he tries to ask again but cannot seem to say the word dead.   
Shaking her head, she reaches blindly for the boy, brushing her hand through his hair and resting it on the back of his neck, “No,” her free hand comes to rest over her chest, “I can still feel him, he is fine for now. I don't know what that was.” She is still completely shaken by whatever caused her to scream. 

“Lydia, is everything,” Stiles starts only to be cut off by the redhead, “Just drive Stiles,” she says hollowly, “The sooner we get there and get them, the quicker this ends.” As Isaac gently closer her door and climbs into the back of the SUV, Lydia's hand takes up residence on her belly again as she lets out a breath, trying to settle herself from whatever nightmare it was that had woken her. Stiles notices as he pulls back on the road how fragile she looks. For someone who seems somewhere between shocked that she could be pregnant and in denial that she is pregnant Lydia seems protective of her baby. Stiles is dying to know why she is so secretive about her baby, not wanting Isaac or the pack to know that she is pregnant or willing to admit who the father is. Part of Stiles worries that she doesn't want to admit that she doesn't know who the baby's father is, or that worse the father is that dick Alpha twin that murdered Boyd, another part of him worries that the baby is a product of something else, that something horrible happened to the banshee and that is way she won't talk about it.   
Curling her legs up into the seat, wrapping her whole body around her hand, Stiles can't help but notice how pale the girl is or how sad she looks. Whatever is haunting his friend is hurting her, both psychologically and physically. He only hopes she is strong enough to overcome whatever this is. Especially if she is going to have and raise a baby. That is the other thing that baffles him, why is she having this baby? Stiles is as pro-choice as the next guy, he believes that every woman had the right to decide what happened to or in her own body, he would never tell Lydia what to do but if this baby was the source of Lydia's hurt, and if she didn't want anyone to know about it, why have it? Why not just end it before anyone ever knew? Why hide it from everyone for this long? Did she even have a plan about what she was going to tell the pack because they were going to notice soon enough if they hadn't already. There was definitely more to this situation than he was seeing or than she was allowing him to see.   
The miles passed slowly until the tense silence was interrupted again, this time by the shrill ringing of Lydia's cell. The sound seemed to startle the girl at first but then she looked down at her bag and quickly unwound herself to retrieve the phone and answer it.  
“Braeden,” She answered, nearly breathless.  
“Uh huh,” she paused and Stiles, once again, wished that he had werewolf hearing.  
“Yeah, we are about three hours out. Okay, we will meet you there and move together. Okay,” she finished the conversation.  
“Well,” Stiles prompted.  
Looking to the boy as if she had forgotten he was there, she sighed, “She found them, she has disable most of the security system but she could use more bodies to move in.”  
“Who has them?” Stiles asks, already plotting. “I mean I know hunters but why did they take them?”  
“She doesn't know,” Lydia said with a finality that said she didn't want to discuss it.   
They crossed the border with little fanfare, honestly it was amazing how easy it was to get into Mexico at a random boarder crossing in bum fuck nowhere Arizona. Stiles woke the others as the approached a dusty motel that looked like a set left over from a horror movie.   
“Um guys, we are here?” He looked around at the deserted building, seriously why did this werwolf shit always have to go down at the creepiest possible places.  
Both of the others woke slowly, looking around at the less than exciting establishment.   
“Braeden is meeting us here,” Lydia whispered, her voice horse with exhaustion. Pushing her hair back, she reached into her bag and pulled out a band, pulling it into a pony tail before opening the door and stepping out to looking around. Stiles and Isaac followed suit, taking in the vast desert around them, the dingy motel must have looked like a mirage to anyone else. Stiles caught a movement off in the distance, squinting further at it, he spoke up, “Um guys, it looks like we have company,” he pointed to the gray SVU speeding towards them from the desert to the east instead of the road that ran North to South.   
“Shit,” Isaac muttered, his face tensing as he focused his hearing, “I can hear heartbeats, three, one of them is definitely Derek. She is coming hot, something must have happened.”  
“Shit, I thought we were going to get them together,” Stiles muttered climbing back into the drivers seat, he turned to the redhead, “Lydia get in the back,” as he cranked the car.  
“What?” She scoffed.   
Grabbing her elbow, Isaac steered her into the backseat, “Just do it Lydia.”   
Looking over his shoulder Stiles nodded his thanks to the other boy.  
“Get in the floorboard and stay there until I tell you to get up,” Stiles instructed as Isaac jumped in the passenger seat.  
Locking eyes with Lydia for a moment before she relented and nodded, climbing into the floor behind the passenger seat, curling herself into a ball. Honestly it was a good thing she was so little because she actually fit pretty well and if they were in a high speed chase, Stiles knew that the safest place for her, particular in her condition where a seat beat could do more harm than good to the baby, was the floor just in case the people chasing them started shooting.   
Jamming the car into gear, Stiles pushed the petal to the floor and sped out of the parking lot, looking over the Isaac he said, “Use Lydia's phone to call Braeden, work out a meeting point with her,” his voice was completely calm but the command was clear, Isaac nodded and retrieved the bright pink phone from the dash. Punching the programed number he waited a moment before someone answered, “Lydia?” Derek's voice echoed strangely with an emotion Isaac couldn’t identify.  
“It's Isaac, what is going on?”  
Breathing heavily, clearly in pain, Derek answered, “Braeden took out several of the hunters and we got out but they are on our tail.”   
Looking to Stiles, Isaac said, “They got out but they are being chased,” his concern clear.  
Nodding Stiles said, “Put them on speaker.”  
Pressing the button, Derek's panting soon filled the car, “Derek?” Stiles prompted.  
“Stiles?” The wolf asked, his confusion clear.   
“Yeah, how much of a lead do you have on the hunters?”  
“Why do the two of you have Lydia's phone?”  
“Not really the time Derek just answer me,” Stiles snapped.   
“Is she okay?”  
“Since when do you care, isn't she just the bitch who used you to resurrect your psycho fucking uncle?” Stiles snarked back, but when he caught Lydia's flinch from the floor behind him he moved on, knowing that that was a sensitive subject. Yet another way that this shit show of a world had fucked up Lydia's life and she had been left to pick up the pieces on her own. “How much time are we working with?” He asked again, trying to refocus the conversation.   
“We have maybe a five minute lead on them,” he relented, his voice hollow, “We have avoided the roads but they are still trailing us.”  
“Okay,” Stiles processed the situation, “We are about an hour from the border, half and\ hour if we can keep up our speed but they have the advantage because they know the area. Do you have any friends around here?”  
“Stiles,” Derek sighs tiredly.  
“What, where there are hunters there is a pack, that is how it works. Chicken and egg. So do you know the local pack?”  
“I am not leading the Plata family back to their compound. It is too dangerous,” He barked.   
“Do you honestly think that we can make it across the border with you bleeding like that?” They all heard Braeden yell in the background, “Call in whatever favor you have with the Luna pack and get us sanctuary! We cannot out run them but they will not cross into the pack's territory!”  
“Listen to the girl!” Stiles yelled his support.  
“Stiles,” Lydia said in a small voice from the back, “Take the phone off speaker and hand it to me.”  
Sparing her a brief glance, confused but unwilling to take his eyes off the road for too long at this speed, he nodded to Isaac who seemed just as confused as he was. Taking the phone off of speaker, he handed it back to her, watching the redhead intently.   
Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath before opening them again, “Derek.”  
“Lydia, what the hell are you doing?” He started, his perpetually rage at her clear.  
“You know what I am, I cannot ignore it and I refuse to let you die no matter how must you hate me you son of bitch so just make what ever call you have to and text me the address so I can save your ass again.” Her voice was firm and commanding, even if her entire body was shaking with the emotions rolling through her.  
“Don't you dare try to tell me what to do,” he growled, only to be cut off by her, “Text me the address and don't worry, I won't expect a thank you.” With that she bitterly hung up the phone, handing it back to Isaac before curling back into herself. Several minutes later it dinged with a message, it was an address.   
Staring at the screen for a moment, Isaac seemed confused. He knew Derek pretty well and he had never seen anyone order him around. Looking at the message, he blinked a few times, there was not any other text, just the address but it meant that Derek had relented and followed Lydia's orders. Entering the address in the map app on her phone he relayed the directions to Stiles. For nearly an hour, they drove, still way too fast towards their new destination. It was only as they neared the territory line that all hell broke loose. SVU's descended on them from the desert, opening fire as the attempted to cross into safety. 

“Oh shit,” Isaac yelled, seeing one vehicle heading straight for them but Stiles quickly turned into the hard earth off the road, swerving the attack and dodging the majority of the approaching vehicles. Sliding the SUV he was driving around as he saw Braeden approaching from the north directly into the heart of the attack. The sound of bullets returned, echoing across the desert as Braeden gave as good as she got, Derek now driving, she and Peter both firing back at the Plata's soldiers.   
Signaling Stiles to keep moving as on of the Plata's SUVs hit Braeden's Derek held the wheel straight and kept driving even though the car was nearly ruined.   
It took another 20 minutes but both cars pulled up to a high block wall surrounding a compound. Metal gates blocked their way but they were suddenly opening as if in invitation to Stiles. He sped through them, Derek just behind him and the gate slammed shut behind them. Stopping in front of the main building, Stiles throws the car in park and jumps out, adrenalin still pumping. Isaac follows, opening the back door to help Lydia out as Braeden and Peter climb out of the gray SUV behind them. 

As soon as her door is open, Lydia is on her feet and running to the other car. Before anyone else can react, she is wrenching open the driver's door and all but pulling out a bleeding Derek Hale.   
“Oh God,” She whispers seeing the bullet wound in his chest, blue smoke from the wolf's bane bullet still seeping out of it as his blood spills down his chest. Lifting her hand she delicately traces the hole with a morbid fascination.   
He groggily cups her face with his right hand, smearing blood onto her cheek, “Lydia?” he whispers, “I don't hate you,” before his knees buckle and he begins to fall. Throwing her head back, she can not control the scream that bubbles out of her as his weight falls into her.


	4. Fading Banshee

Chapter 4

As Derek falls into her like dead weight Lydia feels her whole world start to spin. He is way too heavy for her to hold up for long but she cannot help but hold fast to him, trying her damnedest to keep him upright. Suddenly Isaac is helping her, hefting Derek's left arm over his shoulder and lifting the body of the unconscious werewolf to his feet. Lydia tucks her body underneath his right arm, which was still rested on her shoulder, and helps the wolf all but drag Derek inside. Only once they cross the threshold, does Lydia realize that there is a group of people, a pack of wolves she reminds herself, watching them as they shuffle in following a tall woman with dark hair and olive skin who is leading them into the house. She leads the rag tag party to a room that looks like a converted garage but clearly serves as a medical facility. A man with dark skin and hair meets them there, already wearing scrubs and pulling on gloves he seems prepared for them. Passingly Lydia thinks that Derek must have called ahead.  
“Well this certainly isn't a severed finger,” the man scoffs and Lydia wants to hit him, how dare he make a joke of this! Derek was dying.  
Looking to Isaac, he spoke, “Lift him up onto the gurney, I need to get a look at that bullet wound,” he instructed.  
“It was laced with wolf's bane and he just spent the last several days being tortured by the hunters,” Lydia supplied as Isaac lifted Derek's weight off of her. The loss of pressure and heat from his body made her feel even more dizzy, like she couldn't find her center of gravity.  
Looking at the petite redhead for the first time the doctor sneered, “I am aware of that banshee, if I need information from you I will ask. Now why don't you get out of my way.”  
Feeling an overwhelming sense of embarrassment and anger Lydia did not know weather to tell him off or cry. It had been a very hard few weeks and now Derek was bleeding to death and the only person who could help him within a hundred miles was being a dick to her. Breathing deeply, trying to center herself, she just felt sicker and more lightheaded.  
“Oh God,” she muttered, looking around frantically, seeing no escape she turned to a sink and vomited violently. Once her sickness was reduced to dry heaving, she turned the water on, washing her sick down the sink and running her hands under the faucet. Seeing the water turn pink with blood, Lydia realized that she was cover in Derek's blood. A reminder that Derek was dying as the bitchy doctor worked on him behind her. She could faintly hear the sounds of yelling and chaos. She could feel her body getting colder and she felt an overwhelming stillness filling her. Darkness swirled in her vision as she brought her hand to clasp her belly, sending a silent prayer to whoever listened to the desperate prayers of teenage girls that her baby was okay.  
Stiles stood back slightly watching the flurry of movement that centered on the too still body of Derek Hale. He was the only person in this room who had seen Derek this weak before. Before, he almost chuckled, when he was shot by Kate Argent the bitch who murdered his family and taunted him with it. 

That was something that Stiles never could understand about Derek. He had pieced together from the bits of information he gleaned from Scott and Allison and Peter that Derek had had some sort of relationship with Kate when he was a kid but what Stiles didn't think anyone else realized was how deep that relationship had to have run for him to not be able to kill her. Stiles knew in a way that few people in their world did what it meant to lose your mother and feel like it was your fault. His mom had died for reasons he didn't really understand but all he knew was that her last days were awful and he had been mad at her for not fighting harder. Derek's mother had been murdered by his girlfriend, but even years later, after he had lost everyone he had ever loved and she was trying to kill him, he still could not kill her. Stiles didn't know if that made Derek stupid or just incredibly broken but it was something that made Stiles pity the werewolf in a way that he pitied few people.  
Suddenly the doctor was yelling at Lydia, something about stupid banshees and if he wanted her to talk he would ask, and then she paled, stumbling back to a sink and threw up again. It brought Stiles back to the night before when Lydia had gotten sick; she had said the baby was mad at her which was both weird and concerning. As she lifts her head to wash her hands, Stiles watches her face pale even more if that is possible, it is then he understands that she just realized that she is covered in blood. As soon as he sees her body start to sway he is in motion, reaching out just in time to catch her before her body crashes down to the concrete. Holding her rag doll form in his arms, he looks at her face, pale, drawn, streaked with blood and with dark circles under her eyes from exhaustion.  
“Lydia?” He asked, like she would just open her eyes, “Lydia,” Stiles jiggled the limp girl helplessly. “Dammit this not the time,” he muttered, reaching down to lift the girl up, cradling her in his arms.  
The redhead seemed much too light as he held her, suddenly she began to shiver as he watched the doctor pull the bullet out of Derek. “Um, guys,” Stiles tried not to panic, “Guys we may have another problem.” He looked o Lydia who was starting to gasp.  
The doctor looked up at him with unveiled disdain, “I told the banshee to leave, she has no place here, especially if the sight of blood is going to make her that sick. We have actual problems to attend to. She should have never been allowed on the property,” he growled, his eyes flashing golden.  
“She's pack,” Stiles responded firmly, “And you're a doctor aren't supposed to help people who are sick you speciesist hypocrite.” He snapped. He heard Peter chuckle behind him but the older wolf made no move to help, as always, just watching the situation to see what he could possibly gain from it. 

“I don't care what a human thinks is pack, that thing shouldn't be here,” the doctor growled.

“She is pack,” a voice echoed clearly from the back, “And she is Derek's so I would suggest you take care of her.” Crossing to Stiles with an air in innate authority, Cora Hale drew everyone's eyes to her. Brushing a thick red lock out of Lydia's face, she quirked her head as she looked at the girl, “Oh God, this is worst than I thought,” she murmured.  
Looking over her shoulder, passed the bitchy doctor who was irrigating her brother wound with a wolf's bane antidote, to the tall woman who had led them in, “Please help her, she is pregnant,” the young girl informed her. At that revelation everyone in the room paused, looking a the frail girl in Stiles' arms.  
The doctor even looked up from his work, “The banshee is pregnant?”

“I will handle this James,” The woman silenced him with a tone that made it sound like a reprimand.  
For his part Stiles was freaking, no one was supposed to know about Lydia's baby. She specifically did not want the pack to know and while Stiles did not understand why, he respected that it was her choice to make. Now he was confused as to one- how did Cora Hale know Lydia was pregnant, he didn't think they were exactly close, and two- what the hell was the big deal about her being pregnant? As he was directed to lay the girl on the second gurney in the room Lydia's own words echoed in his head- I am a creature of death, how did this happen?  
Maybe she wasn't just having some sort of meltdown at the whole fact that she was a pregnant teenager, maybe she was frantically researching because there was actually something weird going on. Well weirder that their typical Monday night at least.  
As the woman examines Lydia, feeling her neck and shining a light in her eyes, Cora stands directly opposite her on the other side of the bed, watching her every movement and absently playing with the ends of Lydia's hair.  
Stiles catches eyes with Isaac who looks like he is trying to make himself a small as possible, pressing his back into the wall and wrapping his arms around himself while slumping his shoulders. Quirking an eyebrow as the other boy watches Derek's surgery and Lydia's inert form Stiles silently questions if he know what is going on, Isaac looks back and forth between Lydia and Cora and struggles, clearly just as confused as he is.  
Continuing her examination, the woman rolled Lydia onto her back and listened to her lungs with a stethoscope that Stiles had never seen her pick up. Finally looking up to Cora, she asked, “How far along is she?” As she moved down to push up Lydia's shirt. It was only then that Stiles noticed just how layered Lydia's clothes were. She was wearing leggings with at least three layers of shirts and sweaters that proved good camouflage for her bump. Shaking his head he wondered how long she had been doing this.  
“Um,” Cora stumble, not sure how to answer that.  
“Seventeen weeks,” Stiles answered quietly and Cora looked at him sharply. He knew that Cora knew what was going on so they were going to have to sit down and connect some dots later.  
“Seventeen weeks?” The doctor sounded both slightly astonished and concerned as she poked at Lydia's belly, feeling for something before lowering the stethoscope to the girl's taunt flesh.  
“So did she pass out at the sight of blood or is she just weak,” the male doctor, James, snarked as he joined them. It was only now that Stiles realized that he was done with Derek. Looking over at the former Alpha, Stiles was worried at how pale he was.  
“Why is he so pale?” Stiles asked, nodding toward Derek as he stood guard beside Cora.  
“He just got shot by wolf's bane,” James said as if the boys was stupid.  
“Yeah, I was there,” Stiles snapped back, “But the last time he recovered much more quickly.”  
“Last time?” The woman looked up from her inspection of Lydia, “He has been shot before like this?”  
“We lead a charmed life,” Stiles answers sardonically. At her harsh look he amended, “Yes, he has been shot before, and tortured before and stabbed and electrocuted and a whole myriad of other horrible things which is why I know he usually heals faster, so, what is wrong?”  
Cora looked concerned as well, “Sophia, what is going on,” she looked back and forth between the two prone forms on the tables.  
“As best I can tell, she is suffering from severe dehydration. Has she been throwing up a lot?” She looked to Stiles.  
“Um, yeah a few times,” Stiles answered not wanting to admit that beside last night he really didn't know because he was a shit friend who didn't even notice she was pregnant for four months. But Lydia's lack of surprise at the violent puking last night lead him to believe that it was not the first time it had happened.  
“Well she is dehydrated and, while I need to do some blood work to see her iron and vitamin levels, I would wager that she is malnourished as well.” She informs them all as she starts and IV and draws several syringes of medication.  
“Wait, what are you giving her?” Stiles asks, his eyes following the woman's movements, the other doctor's disdain for Lydia very present in his mind.  
Shooting the boy an exasperated look, she paused when she saw the genuine concern in his face, “Don't worry, these are just vitamin supplements and iron to strengthen her. Right now her body is weak and I am not completely sure why.” She explained.  
“Perhaps it is because this is not supposed to happen, she is not supposed to be pregnant,” James snapped, looking at the other doctor and not at the girl on the table.  
“Hey,” Stiles snapped, slapping his hand on the table, “I don't know what the fuck your problem is with banshees but why don't you step away from my friend and her baby right now.”  
“Why don't you get her out of our territory,” the wolf growled back.  
“Fine,” Stiles answered, leaning down to pick up the girl again, “Cora, Isaac, get Derek and lets go. I am sure that we can outrun the Platas now, and if not, well now that the Luna pack refused to help,”  
“Wait,” Sophia cut him off as Cora and Isaac both moved to lift Derek, “Your friends are sick and they need our help, if you move them,”  
“Lady,” Stiles cut her off, meting her eyes, “Right now I am not so sure that you aren't the ones hurting them. I have seen Derek recover from worse quicker and your friend here would just as soon see Lydia dead as help her so excuse me if you don't exactly have my trust.”  
“Wait,” Peter piped up, “I would very much like to get my finger,”  
“Shut up Peter,” Stiles, Cora and Isaac snapped in unison.  
Chuckling, Sophia smiled, “Well for a human I must say you have balls,” crossing to Lydia again, she pushed the girls hair back, “Look, I understand your concern and if I were in your shoes I would probably feel the same way but I give you my word, as an Alpha, that I mean your friends no harm and if it makes you feel better, I will make sure that James is not involved in their care from here on out.”  
Looking to Cora, Stiles sighs, “You trust them?”  
Nodding, Cora strokes her bother's brow, “They are family. They will not harm us.”  
“Okay,” Stiles relents, laying Lydia back down.  
“James, fix Peter's hand please,” Sophia instructed as she went back to treating Lydia. Stiles took a seat against the wall and for the next hour or so he, Cora and Isaac took turns pacing as they watched over their pack mates.  
“I am going to go make arrangements for you to stay and handle some business, I will be back to check on them later. Call if there is any change,” Sophia instructed, pointing to the phone on the wall. “This room is soundproof, so if you yell no one will hear you.” Cora nodded and waited until the Alpha was out of the room before turning to Stiles. With a deep breath she ran to him and hugged him tightly.  
“Whoa now she-wolf, what is wrong?” He looked down, slightly shocked at her act of affection.  
“Stiles you don't know how happy I am to see you guys. When we left, I knew that Derek was on some sort of mission but I didn't know what. Once we got here he started talking about old myths and messages. Then he and Peter just disappeared.”  
“Wait, so he left with Peter and ended up at the hunter compound?” Braeden asked, it was the first time she had spoken since they had arrived and Stiles was a little startled that she was still there.  
“Yeah,” Cora nodded, releasing Stiles and beginning to pace. “He and Peter went to the compound, they didn't get captured.”  
“So Derek is trusting Peter now?” Isaac scoffed.  
Rolling her eyes, Cora crossed her arms, “I don't think so, he is a necessary evil sometimes but neither of us trust him.”  
“Why don't you trust him?” Braeden prompted.  
Cutting her eyes at the mercenary, Cora ground out, “He murdered my sister.”  
“Changing the subject, what the hell happened to waiting for us to invade the compound?” Stiles asked.  
“Invade? You want to invade a hunter compound with a beta, a sassy human and maternity Barbie over there? No, I am better on my own,” She crossed her arms, “Plus there were chain saws.” She added and Cora shivered.  
Before she could explain that gruesome little detail, Derek groaned from the table to their right, his hands pulling at the wires and cords the doctors had attacked to him. “Uh, what the hell,” He sat up as Cora rushed to the bed, hugging him before he was really aware what was going on. Groggily he lowered his arm around his sister's back, allowing her to hug him, “Oh thank God,” she mumbled into his rapidly healing chest.  
“What the hell happened?” He asked, his voice thick with trauma and confusion.  
“You got shot,” Cora answered, her eyes still full of tears.  
“And tortured,” Stiles added, stepping into Derek's line of sight.  
Blinking a few times, Derek shook his head as if to clear his brain. Opening his eyes, he looked to the others, “Where is Lydia?” He glanced around, not seeing her. Taking a deep breath, he spun his head to the left and saw her, curled on her side in a bed behind his. Stumbling to his feet, he makes his way over to bed, taking in the small girl.  
“What happened to her?” He looks first to his sister and then to Stiles.  
“um,” Stiles looked to Cora and then to Lydia as if the unconscious girl was going to give him an answer. “Well, she, um, she fainted.” Stiles supplied, his tone clearly hesitant to answer.  
Derek stared down at her, taking in her pale face and the dark circles under her eyes that looked like bruises. Her face was spattered with blood. Looking over her body for the source of the blood, Derek's eyes were drawn down to her exposed middle where several wires were stuck to her expanded skin. Lifting his left hand, he reaches blindly towards the swell between her hips, “What,” he whispered as his finger tips made contact with her flesh, “She's pregnant?” He asked no one in particular.  
As his palm spread flat over her skin, Lydia suddenly jerked, her back arching off the bed as she gasped her way back into consciousness.


	5. Pet People

Chapter 5

Everyone jumped at the banshee's movement before Stiles and Cora descended on the bed.  
“Lydia,” Stiles leaned in, cupping her cheek, “Are you okay?” He asked, rubbing his thumb gently along her cheek bone, trying to help her focus her eyes. Blinking rapidly, she slowed her breathing a bit, dropping back to the bed. Closing her eyes, she nodded, whispering “Yeah.” As she reached down to her belly unconsciously. It was only when their fingers touched that she seemed to notice that Derek was even standing there, much less touching her. Looking down at her bump where his hand was resting gently on her exposed skin Stiles saw some unidentified emotion cross her eyes before they hardened completely, “Do you mind?” She snapped, acknowledging the Alpha for the first time by flicking his hand off of her. Derek flinched at her tone and pulled his hand back as if he had been burned. Lydia curled her own hand over her belly as if to protect her unborn child as she looked around at the anxious faces of the pack.  
“What?” She quirked an eyebrow? Moving her free hand to push her hair back she realized that it was not free at all due to the IV currently attached to her. “Why, um, what happened?” She looked from her IV to Stiles, the only person in this room she trusted at the moment.  
“What is the last thing you remember?” He asks, looking at her gently as Cora began pacing anxiously beside him, watching the door.  
Closing her eyes again, she took a deep breath, “I remember getting chased, and then getting here and then,” she opened her eyes and looked to Derek, “You were bleeding and I screamed,” she looked down his chest to the wound that was still there. Absently reaching for him, she wondered aloud, “Why didn't you heal?”  
Breaking in, Stiles answered, “We don't know that yet Lyd, what else?”  
“Um a doctor who was a complete dick and then I,” looking over her shoulder to the sink she grimaced, “I puked.”  
Nodding Stiles runs his hand through his hair, “Yeah, then you fainted.”  
“I fainted?” She lowers her hand back to her belly, “Is?”  
He smirks, “Yeah, she's alright I guess, the doctor said you were severely dehydrated and malnourished. That is what the IV is for to give you fluids and the vitamins you are missing.”  
Lydia's brow creased in worry, “What does that mean, I” she looked like she was going to cry for second.  
“That is not our main concern right now,” Braeden piped up, “We need to move as soon as possible.”  
“Why?” Derek asked, his face showing his exhaustion.  
“Because no matter what Sophia said, Lydia isn't safe here,” She explained.  
Looking down to the banshee Derek sighed, “You screamed,” he closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose as the reality hit him, “So they know what you are.”  
“Yeah and they were not happy about it,” Stiles informed.  
“That guy kept going on about how she didn't belong here and that she should have never been allowed on the property,” Isaac looks to the tiny redhead, his concern clear, “Why does it matter?”  
Cora locked eyes with her brother, looking to the cameras before whispering,“I told them she was yours so they would help her but Braeden is right, we need to move.”  
“You told them what now,” he started with anger only to be cut off by his sister's growl, “What did you want me to do, let them throw her to the Platas? She was unconscious and you had a hole in your chest dumbass and you expect me to let them throw a pregnant banshee to the hunters?”  
“Oh the levels of fucked up in that statement,” Stiles mumbles before he begins pacing again.  
Relenting with a sigh Derek nodded, “You're right Cora, there was little choice but until we can leave without them following us, we stick to this,” Looking to the other two wolves, “Completely. If anyone asks, Stiles is Cora's and Braeden is Isaac's, it is the only way they are going to allow all us to get out of here unscathed.”  
“Okay, what the hell does 'yours' mean? Is this some weird werewolf shit you never explained to us?” Stiles whispers excitedly, knowing that they could be being watched.  
“Yeah, you could say that,” Derek rolls his eyes, looking towards the doors quickly, “Basically it means that you are a claimed human and they can't hurt you.”  
“Claimed?” Stiles scoffs angrily, “You mean like a pet?”  
“For lack of a better description,” Cora chiles, “Like a courtesan. Some wolves are old world and they don't bite humans, so sometimes when they find a special one, they pick him or her as a companion.”  
“You mean for sex don't you?” Isaac grimaces.  
Looking at each other uncomfortably, Derek and Cora both nod awkwardly.  
“Well, this a whole new level of strange,” Stiles throws his hands in the air, pacing again for a moment before pivoting, “Wait, we aren't going to have to, you know,” he looks to Cora and then to Derek, “prove it to them or anything right?”  
Growling at the boy, Derek raised his eyebrows, “She is my sister, touch her and you will be eating through a straw.”  
Cora raised her eyebrows at her brother in challenge and they had some sort of werewolf stare off that was only interrupted when the doors opened and Peter slinked through with Sophia and the doctor from earlier in tow. He subtly makes eye contact with Derek relaying something that the others didn't understand before grinning at Lydia who was still laying on the gurney. Reaching for her exposed belly, he smiled, “Well I see our sleeping banshee has awakened,” he moved to touch her.  
“Touch me freak and you will be missing the rest of fingers,” She snapped with enough venom that the wolf was withdrawing his hand.  
“Okay, so the little mother doesn't want to be touched,” He smiled to James, “Must be hormones.”  
“Fuck you Peter,” Lydia sing songed in return and Derek and Stiles both chuckled.  
“Oh my dear, clearly you have been doing enough of that,” He sassed back.  
Seeing rage flare in Lydia's eyes, Derek growled at his uncle, “Enough,” before looking to Sophia, “What is going on with her?” He nodded to Lydia, still not quiet looking at her.  
Scoffing James piped up, “She is a pregnant banshee.”  
Giving him the patented Derek Hale glare, the other wolf back down a bit, “She was just malnourished and dehydrated,” Sophia reassured as she changed out the IV bag. “How long have you been vomiting like that?” She ask Lydia.  
Looking around the room completely uncomfortably, Lydia fiddled with her clothes, “Um, a lot lately. I wasn't sick in the beginning but the last few weeks have been pretty bad.” She admits.  
“Um,” Sophia checks numbers on the machines, “Well part of that is the fact that the baby is growing and eating up a lot of your nutrients, but I would wager that you have also not been eating enough. This is a werewolf child, they need more calories and more nutrients to grow because, even in utero, their metabolism is quicker.” At the announcement that the baby was a wolf, Stiles, Cora and Derek all looked at the redhead with a level of shock, Peter was maliciously intrigued and Isaac seemed to already know that information.  
“What is the other part?” Lydia asked. At Sophia's raised eyebrows, she continued, “You said that 'part of that' what is the other part?”  
“Well as you know werewolves are pack animals, you need to be with your pack for the baby to feel supported, without that it is an Omega and that affects it even while it is inside of you. Now that you are back with the father, things should improve,” She explained as if that were the natural explanation. Looking to Lydia Stiles considered her words from the night before “she is mad at me” maybe the baby actually was mad at her.  
“What happens when the father isn't around or is dead?” Lydia inquired.  
“The baby is usually fine,” Sophia looked to the girl, “But the mothers don't often fair well, particularly if they are not wolves themselves.”  
Lifting her eyebrows she rolls her eyes, “Good to know.” Looking to the bag connected to her hand she sighs, “So when can we get out of here? We have some business back home.” She prompts, knowing that none of them are safe right now and that if they stick around far to many questions that she doesn't want to answer will be asked.  
“Well with your,” she was clearly searching for the word, “unique condition and the fact that Derek here isn't healing as quickly as he should be, I would like to keep you both for a few days, just to monitor you and to make sure that the Platas are not still gnashing at the gates for you.”  
Nodding, Lydia let out a breath, “Okay, not that I am not very grateful, but do I have to stay here the whole time, I would really like a shower.”  
Looking at the girl as if she was an experiment, Sophia relented with a nod, “Of course, you have had two full bags of fluid so I will just remove your IV. You are free to shower but I would suggest that you get some rest. Your body is exhausted and you need to up you caloric intact at least 300 calories a day focusing on protein and iron.” Once the strange Alpha doctor had removed the IV and put a bandage over the small wound she continued, “Derek will show you to the room you are staying in,” She nodded to the other wolf, who looked as tired as Lydia felt, “I will see you in the morning,” she turned with a smile that was anything but comforting. James, the bitchy doctor from earlier followed her out, the look of distrust on his face clear as he looked over the group.  
Looking to Braeden as Lydia shifted off the bed with Stiles' help, Derek ordered, “Braeden, you and Stiles go get the bags from the car, I will take Lydia to my room. Cora can show you there,” his tone was businesslike, silencing Stiles from his usual smartass comment about Derek's commands.  
Nodding the boy agreed and followed Braeden out to the cars. Looking to Peter, Derek gave a nod before gesturing Isaac and Peter out of the room. When Lydia faltered a bit on her feet, Derek scooped her up, cradling her in his arms as he walked down the hall to the guest quarters. She flinched at his touch, but understanding that they were being watched, she allowed him to carry her. Peter peeled off into a doorway that she could only assume was his room and suddenly Sophia appeared, “This is where you and your human shall stay,” she spoke to Isaac for the first time, directing him at a door beside the one Derek stopped in front of. “Derek, you should also rest, your body is not healing and that is a cause for concern.” She looked to the girl he was holding in mild aloofness.  
“I will,” he muttered, pushing the door open and kicking it closed behind him.  
“Pu-” Lydia started to squirm but was stopped when he pressed the hand supporting her back over her mouth. Her eyes widen and a look somewhere between rage and shock settled in them. Walking directly across the room, and through another door into a bathroom before closing that door as well, he finally settled her on her feet and reached around her to turn on the shower.  
Looking down at the pissed off redhead, he smirked, “We are being listened to, at all times in this house we have eyes and ears on us. You are not welcomed here and they will use any indiscretion to get rid of you.” He explained in a hushed whisper but with a clear sharpness that made her wrap her arms around herself, looking down at her now covered middle he all but sneered, “You cannot risk that, not with the baby,” his tone shifted but she cut him off.  
“My baby is none of your concern,” she corrected sharply.  
“Is it?” He asked, staring into her eyes, asking what he had wanted to ask for hours, “Whose baby are you carrying?”  
“Mine,” her tone was like ice, “She is my baby and that is the last time I will answer that.”  
“Oh really?” His eyes flashed blue, “Because you already admitted that it is a werewolf so that limits your options.”  
Scoffing she looks at him, “Not really. Sophia assumed that she is a werewolf and I felt it best not to argue with her seeing as how the only person in this country who cares if I live through the night is Stiles,” He tried to cut her off, to correct her with a frustrated, “Lydia,” but she continued, her voice dropping to an angry growl, “And even if she is, I am surrounded by wolves and you know how much of a slut I am,” her words bit into him, and they should have because they were the very words he had yelled at her the day after Boyd had died.  
“Lydia,” his voice was soft and full of regret as he subtly reached for her.  
“Don't” she seethed and flinched away. She was saved anymore confrontation by Stiles knocking on the outer door to deliver their bags. With a deep sigh, Derek slipped out of the bathroom and collected the bags from the human while Lydia slowly stripped. Climbing in the shower, she allowed the hot water to wash over her, spraying Derek's blood and the grime from the last 24 hours on the road away. She heard the door open and Derek say, “Here is you bag,” sadly before closing the door back. Leaning out the shower, she opened the duffel and retrieved her toiletries. As she began washing her hair, she was assaulted by thoughts and realizations. If they were stuck here, playing pet humans, there were things that may come out. She wasn't sure if Sophia actually knew her baby was a werewolf or if she just assumed that she was.  
In all her research, she had not found one instance of what the child of a banshee was. She had found all sorts of stories about banshees but none of them mentioned one procreating. She was told by Deaton, after they discovered what she was, that banshees were infertile. Clearly that was a lie or just shear ignorance but after the Darach she was cautious to believe anything that came from the emissaries. Honestly she worried about the cryptic and wholly unhelpful way that Deaton doled out information to Scott when he could be much more useful. What was even more troubling was the way in which Scott just blindly trusted him; it showed Scott's naivete and that was a threat to the whole pack—true Alpha or not.  
However, Scott McCall's habit of being a Disney princess was not her main problem now. No she was currently bound to the fucking Hale clan, a group of people she would have loved to put behind her. In one way or another, they had been involved in nearly every life altering event in her world. There was part of her that wondered if they didn't have a hand in her parents divorce or the time her dog died when she was 12. And now she was trapped, her and her baby, Stiles and Braeden and the damned Hales. Trapped in the isolated, highly surveilled, bunker-like compound of a werewolf pack that thought her kind should die. How was this her life?  
Dropping her head forward to rinse the conditioner from her hair, she tried to stave off the rising panic of this situation. She came to rescue Derek and Cora, she was nearly to that goal and if she had to play nice for the next few days to do so fine, she was resolved to that but she knew that everything else was going to complicate matters.  
Sliding her hands over her belly again, she gave a sad smile. She knew that everyone probably thought she was insane for having a baby. She was not the type to get pregnant at 17 and she certainly wasn't the type who would follow through with such a mistake, but what people didn't seem to understand was that to Lydia, everything about this was a miracle. She wasn't a moron, she had been on birth control since she was fourteen and she always used multiple forms. Well, nearly almost always, the thought hit her and she shook her head to clear it. That didn't matter. What mattered was her girl, she rubbed her belly again, wishing that her baby would move and reassure her that everything was okay in there.  
Lydia had read everything there was about Banshees. She knew that the common thread in the myths was abandonment and it was a reality that she knew well. Everyone left her. Her parents divorced and focused on themselves instead of her. Jackson treated her horribly but she thought he had understood those issues and she thought he would never leave her, but he did. He found something more powerful than her love—the pull of the pack, because even if he thought it was about physical power it wasn't. Well, she supposed it was in a way, because the power of each wolf in a pack is reliant on the others and the connection between them; a connection that neither she nor Jackson had ever really had.  
Regardless of if he understood it or not, that was why Derek's pack hadn't worked; he was just as lonely and broken as she was and he could not make that connection either. At least with anyone who wasn't a psychotic tree worshiping emissary who Lydia was fairly certain was a lesbian. But the fact remained that Jackson left her, first for the bite and then for England. Then the pack had left her too. She was abandoned after Jackson left, with no one thinking to include her in anything and her only avenues into the pack cut off. Or maybe it truly was that they thought it would be easier if she wasn't involved. That she would be safe. She nearly chuckled at that thought—she hadn't felt safe in over a year, not since the first time she saw Peter Hale in the parking lot of the video store. Letting the tears roll for a moment, she recalled how she was only included once she became useful. When she was finding dead bodies they were all for including her like some supernatural cadaver dog. Chucking at the irony of wolves needing a tracker dog she tried to calm down. They let the Darach nearly kill her and then they left her by herself again. Stiles asked her last night if she had ever planned on telling the pack about the baby and she has to admit that part of her had childishly kept it a secret because they didn't deserve to know about her child when they didn't have the decency to include her. She wasn't family, she was a tool. In some dark part of her mind, she understood why people like Julia/Jennifer/ crazy bitch who nearly garotted her went to the dark side. At least there, they mattered.  
However, if she was perfectly honest, Lydia didn't tell people about her baby because she was scared. She was scared that people would ask questions that she couldn't, or wouldn't, answer. She was also terribly afraid that they would ask her not to have her baby. To get rid of the only person in the world who had not abandoned her. She knew how pathetically dependent and needy that sounded but she was trying to accept that about herself. She refused to ever let her daughter feel the overwhelming loneliness that had seeped its way into her soul over the past several years. No, her girl would never feel that, no matter what Lydia had to do to stop it. She wouldn't be a banshee.  
Climbing out of the shower she quickly dried off and dressed herself in a tank top and yoga pants. Towel drying her hair, she brushed her teeth quickly and picked up her things. Derek had spent the last few days being tortured and shot, he had earned a shower at least.  
Exiting the bathroom, she nodded to him. He took it for the offering it was and quickly grabbed his things from a bag that was sitting in the chair and went into the bath. Once she heard the shower start, Lydia busied herself with her nighttime moisture routine, the monotony of the movements calming her. Brushing her hair with a wet brush and putting products in it, she noticed the wooden box sitting on the top of Derek's open bag.  
It was not terribly big and appeared to be hand-carved. The top adorned with the triskale crest of the Hale wolves. The swirling lines pulling in her focus in the same way that the whole damned line had pulled at her life, intertwining her fate with theirs. She felt the overwhelming pull in her mind that she had come to associate with her powers, her fingers reaching forward to trace the swirls beyond her control. As her mind began to slip, she felt Derek behind her, sliding an arm around her as if he thought she was going to fall. The haze continued to pull her into a smokey darkness, whispering a name at her. It was then that the fluttering movements of her daughter inside of her pulled her back. She stumbled a bit, falling back into the solid chest of the man holding her up. Taking a cleansing breath, she heard him whisper, his hand splayed across her belly, nearly covering the whole thing as her girl wiggled around inside, “Is that?” he looked over her shoulder at her middle, amazed.  
“My baby moving?” She asked softly, sighing at the ripples, as her hand joined his, relieved that her girl was okay, “Yeah.”  
After another moment they both seemed to understand the intimate position they were in and moved slowly away for each other. Turning, Lydia looked at him, damp from the shower and wearing only loose sweat pants, bullet wound still red and puckered on his chest. As he turns away form her to busy himself with something on the desk, she is struck by the swirling lines on his back, “Who is Talia?” she asks softly.  
Derek pivots, eyes wide, “What?” he asks pointedly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has left comments, it really does help me write so please keep it up! Thank you for reading!


	6. A Tempest Comes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one is a little all over the place....

Chapter 6  
“Who is Talia?” Lydia's voice sounded strangely vacant, like an echo.  
“What?” His own voice sounded harsher than he intended.  
Glancing over her shoulder to the box still peaking out over the bag, she looked back to him, “Who is Talia?”  
“Lydia what is going on? How do you know that name?” He took a step toward her.  
“I,” she sighed, trying to root her mind, to fight the mist still swirling there, “I heard it, in the spirals.”  
Shaking his head, because what the fuck does that mean? Derek becomes very aware of two things: one, Lydia looked dead on her feet, and two, he needed to speak to her somewhere that he knew they weren't being watched.  
“We will talk about this tomorrow, okay. Right now you need to take Sophia's advice and get some rest, you look pale,” His hand cupped her cheek gently.  
“I, I keep hearing it,” she whispered, somehow knowing that she needed to be quiet. Looking at his chest, she brought her hand up, hovering over his wound, “Why aren't you healing?” She whispered.  
Closing his eyes and breathing out, he dropped his hand, “I don't know honestly but something is blocking my abilities.” Looking to her again, he looked down before taking her wrist and pulling her towards the bed, “Go on,” he prompted her towards the blankets he had pulled back, “You need to get some sleep, we will go for a walk in the morning and talk about all of this,” his eyes vaguely looked up, reminding her that they were being watched. She nodded and crawled into the bed. As she settled under the blankets, she looked back to Derek who was still standing awkwardly beside the bed, “Um?” She raised her eyebrows.  
“I will just sleep in the chair,” he said more to the floor than to her. Sighing she leaned over and grabbed his wrist, it was the first time she had willingly touched him since she had arrived. Pulling him forward, she responded to the slightly bewildered look on his face with a subtle raise of her own eyes. Then he understood that she was right, if the Luna pack was to believe that she was his, then they were going to have to share a bed. Giving her a gentle nod, he turned off the lamp that had been lighting the room and slid gracefully into the cold sheets.  
He could feel the warmth of her body radiating through the space between them and it made his body relax in a way it hadn't in months. The scent of her flooded his senses, the warm smell of summer and fire and cedar. He would never tell her this, but she smelled like happiness to him and that is part of the reason she scared him so much. Derek understood anger, pain, loss; he lived with those emotions and they fueled him. Happiness was something that he had a vague memory of and that had only brought him pain. Paige, Kate, his parents, his brother, Laura, all of that happiness was seared out of his life and had left a void, a sucking black hole of loneliness. Lydia, she needed to be protected from that. She was better than that. God, she was pregnant, she was going to be someone's mother, she needed happiness. And all Derek had ever brought her was pain and more loneliness. He had inadvertently taken Jackson from her, twice, he had plotted to kill her at one point and his uncle had damn near succeeded in killing the girl before he drove her nearly insane and forced her to resurrect him. No, he could only bring pain to her life and he knew that, he had pushed her away because of that.

Looking over at her, still in the darkness, he could hear her heart beating, could hear the rapid pounding of the life inside of her and something inside of him tore—when he had woken and saw her, unconscious and pregnant, he wanted nothing more than for that child to be his. He knew that it wasn't supposed to happen, that banshees weren't supposed to be fertile but he wanted more than he would ever admit to be the father of the little wolf growing inside of her. She had rebuffed his inquiry that he could be the father, thrown his own words back in his face but, he still had some spark of hope. Right now he needed to focus on protecting her, she was not safe here and she never would be. He also knew that he needed to focus on trying to form some sort of relationship with her. She clearly hated him now, she did not trust him and he had made sure that she never would. At the time he had thought he was protecting her, pushing her away from him so she didn't end up like Paige or Laura or him but now, now there was a baby. A baby that was part of his pack even if it was not part of his blood and he knew that he needed to get Lydia not to hate him if he was ever going to know that child.  
With a resigned sigh, he whispered, “My mother,” into the darkness, knowing that she was not quite asleep.  
“Uhm?” She breathed, too tired for real words.  
“Talia,” the name hurt to say, “She was my mother.”  
Rolling towards him, she looks at him sadly, “That's her, in the box?”  
Rolling to face her he nods, “Yeah, the Plata family took her remains after the fire. I don't quite know how they got their hands on them but they had them locked away in a mountain ash box. I tracked them down here and Peter and I went to get her back.”  
“Not to sound disrespectful, because I have no idea what it is like to have that happen, but would she have wanted you to risk your life for a box?” Her words are not an indictment but they still sting a bit.  
“There is something I need in that box,” he explained softly, “I will tell you tomorrow,” he whispered low enough that the monitoring devices shouldn't be able to hear him. Nodding she allowed her eyes to flutter close, he watched her sleep for a bit before succumbing to his exhaustion. 

Down the hall Stiles was pacing. Cora sat on the bed, showered and dressed in Hello Kitty pajamas and watched him with a slightly bemused stare.  
“I mean really, what the hell was that all about, the glaring and the growling and the really cranky wolf doctors,” Stopping and looking at her, he ran his hand through his hair, “It has been a long twenty four hours okay,” he chuckled at her expression. Standing on her knees, she crawled forward, “I know,” she smiled softly, “And the next few days are going to be hard too but once we get the all clear to leave we will go home and everything will return to normal,” She pulls his arm, pulling him closer to her.  
For his part Stiles feels a little like he has fallen into some alternate universe that he totally doesn't understand. Cora is touching him. Cora Hale is touching him. As she pulls his body to her, he follows blindly.  
“Calm down Stiles,” She whispers softly in his ear, “They are watching,” she placed a small kiss just below his ear, “And listening,” she bit the lobe, “So play your part so we can get out of here,” she pulled him into a kiss. All rational thought left his mind as he kissed her back both of them falling back to the bed. After a few minutes he pulled away, “Where did that come from?” He asked softly, pushing her hair out of her eyes.  
Smiling she just said, “Goodnight Stiles,” and climbed under the covers. It was going to be a long night, he shook his head and thought about coach yelling with spittle around his mouth and math equations and Greenburg and anything else he could think of to keep his mind off the fact that there was a hot girl sleeping next to him. A really hot girl, who was just kissing him. A really hot girl was a werewolf. A really hot girl who could easily murder him with her claws. Oh God why was that a turn on? Rolling over, he prayed that she wouldn't kill him if she woke up with his morning wood poking her.  
Isaac was tense. Braeden was asleep in the bed in the center of the room but he could not settle his thoughts enough to rest. Part of him was glad to be reunited with Derek but that was superseded by the extremely precarious situation they found themselves in. These people were not trying to help them, in fact Isaac would bet money that the Doctor would have killed them all if he had the chance, particularly Lydia.  
Lydia was a whole other issue though and she was adding to the stress Isaac felt. Isaac was much more observant than anyone gave him credit for and while he allowed them all to paint this image of him as a gentle, harmless puppy, he was anything but. Growing up in the world of constant fear and terror that he did, he noticed the weaknesses in others, the cracks in their armor that they didn't want to let others see. He could see the simmering rage in Stiles that he covered in humor, the secrets that Cora kept, allowing the others to impose their own image of her over the person she actually was. He understood that Scott hated violence and feared being like his father more than anything and how that weakened him just as he understood how much Allison had relished in the violence she committed when she was allowing her grief to rule her and how it had weakened her. He saw the overwhelming guilt in Derek and he saw the complete loneliness of Lydia. Part of him wanted to use those flaws against them but he knew that while they were all irrevocably fucked up, that on some level they where family and the only redemption to be found for any of them was in each other. 

He had known about Derek and Lydia from the start, he was pretty sure that Cora had too. They had not hidden it as well as they thought and he could smell them all over each other. It had started a month or so after Jackson left as best he could tell but he never told anyone about it. He had hoped that the two would work out because he could see them being very good for each other. When Lydia had contacted him about the woman who had found him with the Alpha pack he had realized just how long it had been since he had seen her. Part of the reason he had been so angry about Derek and Ms. Blake was that it meant that Derek had screwed things up with Lydia and the possibility of fixing some of the issues in their pack. The fight over saving her when they thought she was the Kanima was a dividing force in the pack and she could be used as a bridge to reconnect them now. Instead, she was being shoved out of both packs as the issues between them festered; the issues that had cost them Erica and Boyd. Issues that were destroying them. No, there was something else here he was missing and he was sure as hell going to find it, even if it meant working with Stiles. 

Derek jarred awake, having rolled over in his sleep and somehow, subconsciously he knew that something was wrong. It was a feeling he knew well, being yanked out of his sleep by overwhelming fear. Looking around him, he did not see Lydia, opening his ears, he listened closely. He could not hear Lydia or the baby anywhere in the house. The realization that she was gone hit him like a sucker punch, rolling off of the bed onto his feet, he quickly takes stock of the room, looking for any sign of where she went. The was nothing out of place, her bag still sat on the chair beside the desk, the top zipped and her sweater neatly folded on top of it. Her shoes were by the door and her toiletries were in the bathroom.  
“Oh shit,” he muttered, running his hands through his hair. Grabbing a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, he dressed himself quickly trying to get a lock on her location. She had not left behind the scent of fear or pain, just the faint scent of pregnancy and happiness. Looking around once more, he saw the moonlight reflecting off of the urn in his bag. Hearing thunder rolling the distance he made a quick decision, grabbing the bag and zipping it closed before tossing it over his shoulder and making his way to his sister's room while pulling on a hoodie.  
Tapping softly, the door is pulling open before he could pull his knuckles away, “What's wrong?” His sister was wide eyed.  
“Lydia is missing,” he whispered, trying to keep the fear from his voice.  
“What?” Stiles' voice sounded louder in the hall as he came up behind Cora, his arm pushing the door open wider behind her head, both sleep rumpled.  
Signing in frustration, Derek squeezed the bridge of his nose and repeated. “She's missing.”  
“How long?” Stiles asks, not sounding as- over- the- top anxious as Derek expected.  
“Um,” he watched the boy move back into the room, “I don't know exactly, she did not leave a chemo trail, but the sheets are cold so a little while at least. I am going to go track her, I need the two of you to hold things together here okay,” Cora nodded, cutting off and further conversation between the two men.  
“Find her Derek,” Stiles locked eyes with the werewolf, “Find her.”  
Derek nodded and the two men seemed to understand that they were allies in protecting Lydia, no matter their complicated past. Nodding once more, he jogged silently down the hallway and out of the main house. Breathing deeply, he tried to clear his senses of the fear of getting caught and the sounds and smells of the compound and just focus on Lydia. There was a time (not that he would admit it) that he could locate her heart from miles away, he could only hope that he could do it now.  
Catching a trace of ceder and baby in the raging wind and thick smell of rain, he followed it with a prayer to whoever was listening that he would find her. There was a storm coming and Derek knew that she was not safe by herself in the desert or in the forest beyond the desert in any weather, much less the tempest that was threatening them now. As the air thickened with rain, he pulled the hood up on his hoodie and started to run, focusing on the faint smell of the banshee and hoping that he wouldn't get caught.  
Several miles later, in the area where the desert surrounding the compound gave way to a small but dense forest in the foothills he spotted her; just on the edge of the trees he spotted her, a flash of pink and red against the darkness.  
“Lydia,” he whispered, redoubling his effort to reach her, the rain was pouring down now, pelting him painfully as he ran towards the girl. “Lydia,” he screamed.  
Finally catching up to her, he yelled her name again,”Lydia,” but she didn't even look at him, just stared ahead as if she was alone. She made no notice of the rain, the lightening or the howling wind, she walk forward with a stalwart focus. Cutting her off, he grabbed her shoulders, “Lydia,” he cupped her face and whispered, “Lydia can you hear me?” he recognized the blank stare he received in return from the night she drugged him to resurrect Peter.  
Jerking suddenly, she pulled away from him and started running with all of her might. She seemed to be chasing something that only she could see. Following her, Derek had to work to keep pace, a bit shocked that she could run as fast as she was now. Catching up with her finally, Derek grabbed her around the waist, pulling her against his chest, trying to stop her from running again. She started to fight him, kicking and wiggling, attempting to escape the vice of his arms. In an effort to hold onto her and not hurt her or her baby, Derek lost his footing and they both fell to the ground, sliding in the mud as they continued to fight for dominance.  
“Lydia damn it! Stop fighting me!” he bellowed, trying to keep a hold on her increasingly slippery skin, “Lydia you are going to hurt the baby!” He shouted and somehow that seemed to break though her fog and she settled momentarily. Turning to face him, still held tightly in his arms, she sought out his eyes, “Derek?” she looked at his wet face and hair and then, taking in their surroundings, he could hear her heart start to pound, “Where are we?” She was panting now, “Where is she?” he could feel her panic rising.  
“Lydia, you were sleepwalking,” he tries to make her look at him, but she is insistent on looking around them for something.  
“Where is she?” She starts to sob. “Where is she?” She begs  
“Who?” He asks, trying to get her to calm down, “Lydia who are you talking about? It is the middle of the night and we are the only two people out here.”  
“What?” Her eyes are wide and desperate for this to make sense.  
“Look,” he holds her face steady, trying to get through to her, “We are in the woods, you ran off in your sleep.” he explains over the roar of the rain and the steadily increasing wind.  
Blinking the water rapidly out of her eyes, Lydia's panic does not ebb, if anything her heart rate goes up even higher as she realizes what has happened.  
“Oh, God,” She cries, “Oh God it is happening again.” She finally locks her eyes with his and he can taste her fear and self loathing, “I can't be crazy again.”  
“You weren't crazy before,” he pulls her into a hug, both surprised and relieved that she allows the contact. Pushing her soaked hair out of her face, he feels her shiver against the cold wind, “Come on, let's get you somewhere safe.”  
Looking around he sees a structure in the distance, chancing it, he starts to lead her there.  
“Where are we going?” She asks, not questioning the fact that he has not dropped her hand or that he is caring a duffel bag in the middle of the woods.  
“There is a cabin up ahead, we are going see if we can bunker down there for a little while, it is not safe to try to make it back to the compound in this weather.” He explains, his point accentuated by a sharp bolt of lightening and the snapping of a heavy tree branch. The lightening makes Lydia jump and Derek pulls her closer, guiding her to the cabin and, with the aid of a little werewolf strength, inside. Looking around he spots a fire place and some wood store. He quickly makes a fire and lights the three lanterns that are on the mantle above it. Using one of the lanterns to look around he finds that the cabin in sparse, a great room with the fire place, some furniture and a rudimentary kitchen. Off to the side there appears to be a bathroom, trying the taps he finds that there is water but no electricity which means no hot water. Sighing, he looks back to Lydia who is shaking like the leaves outside, her hair and clothes are soaked through, sticking to her skin and making her look even smaller than usual. His eyes are once again drawn to the rounded protrusion between her hips and he is grateful that she cannot hear his heart skip a beat at the sight. Looking around quickly again, he sees a closet and after quick exploration he returned to her with a large pile of quilts.  
“Take your clothes off,” he whispered, his voice sound much more needy that he would have liked.  
“What,” her attention snaps to him sharply.  
“Take your clothes off,” he said again, “You are going to freeze, so take them off and we will dry them by the fire.” Seeing her hesitation, he quickly unzipped his own hoodie and pulled it off, pulling his shirt over his head quickly, his skin prickling at the juxtaposition of the warming air from the fire and the his freezing skin. Moving to his bag, he opened it gently, removing his mother's urn to see what was in his bag, rummaging around he pulled out a pair of sweat pants, basketball shorts and a long sleeve t-shirt. Turning, he caught sight of Lydia, still shivering, and handed her the shirt and sweat pants, “Here, you can wear these,” he offered and she looked at his hand for a moment before sighing and taking the offered clothing. Walking to the fire, she took one of the lanterns and moves off to the bathroom to change.  
While she is gone, Derek strips out of the rest of his clothes and puts on the basketball shorts and starts collecting cushions off of the couches and the quilts and makes an impromptu bed in front of the fire. As he fiddles with the blankets on the floor and tries to busy himself with figuring out what is in his bag, he is bombarded with the memory of the first time he and Lydia were together. To say that he hadn't planned on stumbling into an affair with a seventeen year old when he woke up that morning was an overstatement. It was a few weeks after Jackson had left for London and the pack was still completely unsettled. Scott and Stiles were off doing whatever it was they did and avoiding him at all cost. He knew that Scott was going to summer school but, to be honest, he was grateful for the reprieve from the boys after what had happened with Gerard.  
He was still not sure how to feel about the events of the past few months. He became a murder and an Alpha in the same moment and he could admit that he had not handled it quite as well as he should have. He had been overwhelmed with hatred for Peter and what Peter had done to Laura and Scott and himself. He had precious little family and then he had lost them both, making him an Omega in every essence. For a while he thought that Scott was a gift from the universe to remedy that. That, just maybe, he could rebuild his life with Scott as family, but Scott had seen him as the same sort of monster that Peter had been, as an enemy instead of family. He gave the bite to Isaac, Erica and Boyd, and while he knew he had manipulated them to some extent, they had each had a choice and they had each benefited from the bite.  
Jackson however, Jackson was a different story. He had bitten Jackson in the flush of his new Alpha status and he did it, not as a gift, but as a way to cowl the boy; to knock the cocky bastard off his pedestal. He regretted it more than nearly any other thing in his life because it devalued the bite, it cheapened what they were and that was wrong. Derek was lost and once it became clear that Jackson had come out wrong, he had blamed himself, thought that maybe his own selfishness in turning him had led to the boy becoming the Kanima. He knew that his eagerness to kill the boy was rooted in his own self hatred at first, and then later, once the power of Kanima became clear it was much like his drive to kill Peter-- simply the only solution he saw. However, he also was so beyond relieved when Lydia had brought him back because it was as much a resurrection for Derek as it was for Jackson, she had saved him from being a murderer again and for that he was forever grateful.  
Derek could admit that the redhead had always intrigued him. From the time that she was attacked by his uncle, before he knew that the rogue Alpha was actually Peter, he had been dawn to her. She smelled different than other humans, the potential power simmered just below her skin. After Peter had bitten her and Derek had killed him, she should have become his responsibility in the same way that Scott had, but Derek ignored that responsibility. It was only when she drugged him and used him to resurrect Peter that he realized his mistake. That realization didn't make him remedy it, but he knew he should have paid more attention to her.  
It was only months later, earlier one morning when he was exhausted from trying to track down both Erica and Boyd and the Alpha pack while desperately trying to hold on to the little pack he had left that he had realized her importance. He knew that the closer Isaac got to Scott the more chance that he would lose him in the same way that he had lost Erica and Boyd. Derek was staring out of the window, taking in the skyline when he heard the clack- clack of her heels behind him. He had heard her enter the apartment but he hadn't turned to face her, instead choosing to stand stoically facing the window, waiting for her to state her reason for being there.  
After a few moments of silence, she finally spoke, “He left.” She stated, her voice hollow.  
“I know Lydia, I remember,” he pushed his hands in his pockets, looking down at the floor.  
“Everyone leaves. Why do they always leave me?” She asked. In retrospect, Derek should have figured out what she was at this moment but he was too distracted by the overwhelming smell of loneliness on her, rolling off of her and completely blocking the natural smell of sunshine that she carried.  
Turning slowly, he kept his eyes locked on the floor, “Lydia, I,”  
“No,” she raised her hand in front of her, “I don't know why I came here, I just, it is his first full moon alone and I know he will be okay but I just,” she sighed, “How could you let him leave?” Her tone shifted, becoming hard and accusatory and he was a little taken aback.  
“What? Lydia his family moved,” He tried to defend himself but the truth was he was scared, too scared to have tried to fight Jackson leaving. He had just accepted it instead of pushing him to stay with the pack. The pack was falling apart and he didn't know how to fix Jackson. He knew what it was like to carry the guilt of being a murderer. He had killed twice, once for mercy and once for protection but it still haunted him. Jackson had killed dozens and he didn't know how to help him through that. He also knew that the Alpha pack was coming for them and that no one near him was particularly safe right now and Jackson was just too fragile so he had convinced himself that being in London was the best thing for the boy.  
“You are supposed to the Alpha, you made him into this and left him vulnerable and then you just let him leave, you let him go be an Omega and he is not safe!” She yelled, tears forming, “And he is alone in a foreign country with no one to help. You are a fucking coward Derek!” The truth was, he was a coward, too weak to keep his pack together and too scared to help Jackson. As Lydia screamed at him, he knew she was right.  
“You hide in your so Spartanly posh loft like fucking Batman and you just let everything around you fall apart,” walking up to him, she hits him in the chest, trying to grab his attention, “You let Peter trapezes around here, like everything is fine and like he isn't a psychotic murder but you refuse to help Jackson” she banged her small fist against his chest, aiming for any reaction. Her words hit like knives, but her next accusation hit the hardest, “He murdered your sister HAVE YOU FORGOTTEN THAT?”  
His fist tighten around her wrist and his eyes flash red as he finally locks eyes with hers, “Of course I remember!” He bellowed, “Every second of everyday I remember that my entire family is gone. Every person who ever loved me is dead and it is my fault. My sister raised me after the fire, she held me when I cried and check my homework and cooked my meals and that son of bitch tore out her throat,” His voice is a low rumble, “I killed him for it so if you want to blame anyone for him prancing around here look in a fucking mirror because that is your doing.”  
“He attacked me and brainwashed me, that is not my fault,” she shoved back, still in his face.  
“And it is not my fault that Jackson turned into a Kanima or that his parents moved,” he countered.  
“It all could have gone easier if you would have include me in this shit instead of trying to hide what was happening to me from me!” She yelled, knowing she was grasping at straws.  
“I am really sorry your boyfriend left you, but that is not my problem, so why don't you go whine to Allison over ice cream,” He growled as she seemed to be gearing up for another rant. Somehow, and Derek honestly still didn't know how, the screaming morphed into violently kissing each other. As their clothes began to be pulled away the battle for dominance raged as he pressed her into the wall. Rage driving every thrust and sigh and bite. Together they released the pain and frustrations of the past few months into each other. For the next several hours they fucked like only two people who had lost everything else in their lives could. After the dust had settled and their clothes were back on, they made the decision that they both needed to keep doing that but that it was not anyone else's business. They both needed something that was just theirs; something that gave them a since of control in a world that both of them felt complete out of control of.  
at the sound of the door opening and Lydia wondering slowly back into the room, Derek is stunned for a moment by the image of her, draped in his clothing, looking back at him. She looked so young, so lost and so scared in that moment. His clothing dwarfing her as she fiddled with a loose string at the bottom of the shirt, her belly poking out and, yet again, making him want to touch her.  
“Come get wrapped up,” he suggested, “We need to get you warm,” he whispered, as if he was afraid to startle her. Nodding she shuffled forward, more unsure that Derek had seen her since that first day just after they had slept together when she whispered, “What does this mean?”  
She lowered herself to the floor, shifting the blankets so that she was covered. Seeing that she was still shaking, Derek climbed under with her and snuggled close to her. He felt her body stiffen at his touch and a wave of guilt rolled through him. This was entirely his fault.  
Splaying her hands tentatively over his chest, she looked up, “You're cold?” she asked.  
“Yeah,” he nodded, not complete used to the sensation.  
“We need to figure out what is going on here Derek,” her voice was resigned, she was going to help him even if she didn't want to.  
“Okay,” he whispered into her wet hair, “But first, you need to get some sleep. You are exhausted, I can tell and the baby needs you to rest,” he said. Just as she was going to reply the baby moved inside of her again and he could not help but smile as he felt the fluttering from where she was pressed against him, “She agrees.”  
She didn't answer, she just allowed herself to drift off to sleep, wrapped in his arms and revealing in the strength and safety that she always felt there. Knowing that it was a lie but, just this once, allowing herself to believe the lie once more.


	7. Fights and Forgiveness

Chapter 7

Amazingly, Lydia slept better on the floor of a cabin in the woods wrapped up in Derek's arms than she had in months. She had discovered early into their, well she hesitated to say relationship, that he was, shockingly, a snuggler. Secretly, Lydia loved to be held, not that she would admit it, but she did actually love the feeling of being cocooned in someone's arms, sheltered from the world. As sleep was fading, she allowed herself to snuggle deeper into his hold, letting the smell of the fire, the rain and the fresh scent of Derek comfort her and ease her back into the waking world. Feeling his breath against her hair and his arms pull her ever so closer, she knew that he was awake, but she wanted to hold onto this lie just a moment longer. Before the rush of hurt and loneliness came flooding back in and she was reminded once again of how alone she was in the world. Before she let her thoughts slip down that dark path, she though of her baby, her precious girl that was hers and hers alone. She knew that the baby meant that she wouldn't be left again and she would make sure that her daughter knew every second of every day just how loved she was. Smiling unconsciously as she felt her baby flutter inside of her she let herself be overwhelmed by the fact that she had a little tiny person inside of her, growing and changing every second, becoming the person she would be. 

Unfortunately, her fight to stay comfortable warm and held was interrupted by her bladder's overwhelming need to be emptied. Sighing mournfully, she opened her eyes. Looking up, she was met with the warm green eyes of the most mercurial man she had ever met. This was her favorite version of Derek, the one early in the morning or late at night when he was too tired to be guarded and angry at the world. His eyes were less sad and less hostel and his whole body seemed to relax. The worry lines around his eyes and between his brows eased and the tension in his jaw ebbed to the point that he looked like someone his age should look—like he didn't have the weight of the world on him. For a bitter moment Lydia wondered if she ever got to see him like this. She supposed that she must have because Lydia wasn't stupid or naive enough to believe that he was like that because of her. She was good in bed, but she wouldn't take credit for Derek Hale dropping his guard—he probably just always looked like that when he woke up she reasoned. It was easier to think that, than to think that Jennifer had been able to elicit that same reaction. 

His lips curved in a soft smile as the baby moved and Lydia realized that he must be able to feel her because their bodies were pressed flush against one another. Suddenly the thought of Derek feeling her baby was overwhelming and she needed to move, the heat she had been reveling was oppressive and she needed to get away from this man as quickly as possible. Wiggling to get up, his arms instinctively tightened for a moment, cutting her eyes at him, she put her hand on his chest and pushed, muttering, “I have to pee,” as she rolled away from him and untangled herself quickly from the blankets. 

As Lydia hurried off into the bathroom, Derek dropped back to the blankets with a sigh. Running his hands over his face he knew that he was going to have to fix this if they were going to work together and he had the overwhelming feeling that they were going to have to work together if all of them were going to get out of this mess alive. Looking towards the door he sighed again in frustration—how the hell was he supposed to start this conversation? 

Inside the bathroom, Lydia was trying, desperately, to calm herself down and formulate a plan to get through however long she was trapped in this house with Derek. Peaking out the window, she saw that the storm was still raging, the woods around the cabin dark and howling angrily at the universe. Sighing, she leaned forward, pressing her forehead against the cold glass of the mirror over the sink, she needed a list- first, figure out why Derek was not healing correctly. She had a few theories but she needed to ask him some questions. That posed the clear problem of having to speak to him—something that she would love to avoid for, say, ever. The other problem with that was that he wasn't particularly loquacious on a good day and they had enough issues between them that he probably didn't want to talk to her anymore that she wanted to talk to him. They also needed to figure out what Talia was trying to tell her, but again that meant talking to him and, see issue with number one. 

Urgh! She knocked her head against the glass. She felt the overwhelming need to cry from frustration, which was another annoying side effect of pregnancy, along with the puking, the need to eat all the time and the desperate horniness which was yet another issue with being trapped with Derek because even if he was an unrelenting tool who she would like to never speak to again, he was hot and damn good in bed and she knew that. He was also shirtless and oh God she had to stop thinking about that! Splashing the frigid water from the tap on her face, she sighed, she could get through this. She got through him kicking her to the curb like trash the first time, she could wait out this storm and deal with him until they got home. Squaring her shoulders, she took a deep breath and exited the tiny bathroom. Entering the other room, she spotted Derek stretched out in front of the fire, pillow over his face. She would have chuckled at the sight of the werewolf in the pose of a fourteen year old girl throwing a tantrum if it wasn't for the festering wound that was now clear on his chest. Stepping forward gently, she looked at the red streaked and puckered edges of the wound and was horrified, “Derek, that thing is getting worse,” she lowered herself to her knees, reaching out to touch it, “Does it hurt?” As her fingers barely brushed it, he flinched, “What do you think?” He snapped from under his pillow.  
Standing quickly, she crossed her arms, “Fine, if you are going to be an asshole, I am going to go wait over here until the storm is over and then we will go play nice until we can get the hell out of this Godforsaken place and then you never have to speak to me again. It will be like your dream come true!”

Throwing the pillow off his face, he sits up quickly, “Oh, please, do go pout about how sad you are and how mean everyone is to you and how no one cares about poor little Lydia,” He yells in response, “You can try to make me the bad guy all you want but you clearly rebounded quickly!”  
Her eyes widen in hurt at his words, “So we are back to this again! Where the hell do you get off judging me for who I do or don't sleep with? If you wanted a say in who sees me naked, you shouldn't have thrown me out like I was common trash so you could fuck my English teacher!”  
“You are seriously going to bring up Jennifer! You don't get to throw that in my face,” he was on his feet now.  
“I don't get to?” She huffed in indignation, “You act like an outraged prom date if I talk to anyone else, AFTER you kicked me out of your life, but you fuck the woman who tried to KILL me and I don't get to bring it up! Derek I almost died and you never even called to see if I was okay! None of you did!” Her fury was tampered by the broken sob in her voice and the tears pouring down her face, “She almost killed me and I am supposed to be fine with that?”  
Growling in frustration, he pushed on, “Aiden did kill Boyd and you are clearly fine with that!” He barked and she flinched.  
“Fuck you,” she growled back through her tears, “You know shit about my relationship with Aiden but you should have at least realized that it ended when he murdered Boyd. No matter what the rest of you think of me, I would not stay with someone who was capable of doing that to anyone, much less someone who I consider a friend.”  
“Friend? Boyd was your friend?” He scoffed, “When did the two of even have a conversation Lydia?” He was in her face now, “He was my pack! And your little boyfriend killed him!”  
“And why did that happen?” She yelled by, tears still rolling down her face, “It happened because you couldn't work together with Scott, it happened because everyone's pride got in the way of acting like a pack!”  
“What would you know about pack?” His face was tight with rage now.  
Her lip trembled as she answered, “I'm not pack, Derek, because you didn't want me to be. I was there for you when Boyd died, I let you fuck all your frustrations into me even after you have thrown me away. I guess I thought that you needed me more that I needed my own dignity but what happened in the morning huh?” She closed in on him, her voice a low tremor, “What did you do? You threw me out. You called me a whore and you told me to go back to the Alpha pack brat that had murdered Boyd, that you were through with me.” Her tears were thick and her voice was raspy. “Do you know what that feels like? To put aside all of my feelings about you pushing me out of your life before, telling me that we could never be anything and that you couldn't have a relationship and that it was a mistake because I was too young and too human, only to have you turn around the next day and start sleeping with my teacher. To know that she was worth more to you than I was and to accept that only to have you throw my feelings back at me. You made me hate myself again, just after I had put the pieces back together. I let you in and you betrayed me.”  
“Oh you left out the part where you fucked half the population of Beacon Hills High School so don't paint yourself as too much of a martyr!” He scoffed, eyes flashing to her belly.  
“Why do you think you get to say that—who and what I do is none of your business. I chose to sleep with you and you chose to dump me, the fact that I moved on doesn't figure into this. I wasn't in a relationship with you—a choice you made.”  
“There is difference between moving on and screwing everything on legs, you were degrading yourself,”  
She cut him off with a sharp slap to the face, the crack of her hand hitting him made a sound that reverberated around the room, “No, I had sex with other people because I like sex and I needed to feel good in my own skin again. I needed to feel like I was in control of my body again. You all seem to forget that Jackson manipulated me for months and your creepy fucking uncle took up residence in my head and played puppet master. He took over my mind and my body and he made me do all sorts of things that I didn't want to do. He violated me physically, psychologically and he robbed me of my intellect. Having sex was something that made me feel good again,” squaring her shoulders, she met his eyes, “The only time I was degraded was by you, when I tried to comfort you and you used it against me. You fucked me in the same bed you slept in with Jennifer and then you all but offered to pay me for my services like I was a whore," scoffing bitterly, she continued, her tears unabated, "The cherry on top was that you didn't even think that she would find out about us, but she knew. Why else do you think she tried to kill me? I was the girl who knew too much, too much about you. I was the girl you betrayed her with. If it wasn't for Scott and the Sheriff, she would have succeeded and me and my girl would both be dead.”  


Derek cupped his red cheek in horror. He had regretted his words to Lydia immediately but what she didn't understand was that she couldn't be near him, he was dangerous. Erica was dead. Boyd was dead. His family was dead. Anyone he got too close to died and they died in awful ways. He couldn't see her die too. Her last words “me and my girl would be dead” echo through his head and his eyes once again found her middle. He hadn't really thought about it but he didn't know how far along she was. She was showing so he assumed a few months at least but Jennifer had tried to kill her a month ago, she was pregnant then. God, she was pregnant when Boyd died, when he, “I'm sorry.” His voice came out raspy and soft and without him really prompting it, “I'm so sorry, I,” he could feel words bubbling in his chest and he knew that he needed to tell her the truth if he was even going to earn back her trust. 

She crossed her arms tightly over her chest, it was a defense mechanism, she was trying to protect herself from him, shame welled up as he realized that she felt she need protection from him. But, she stayed quiet, the tears still rolling, and she let him speak so he took it as a peace offering.  
“You're right.” He began, “I had no right to ever speak to you like I did after Boyd died. I had no right to sleep with you either but,” he looked down, trying to decide where to start, his heart lead him to the beginning, “When I was fifteen, I fell in love.” In another situation he would have chuckled at her confused face, but instead he continued, “Her name was Paige,” his voice nearly cracked saying it, “And she was,” looking up, he tried to catch her eye, “Well she was actually a lot like you. She was so smart and she was funny and she didn't find me charming at all and I loved her so much it hurt. Somehow I convinced her to love me back and,” he took a breath, “that killed her. I killed her.”  
“What?” she finally met his eyes.  
“Peter," he rolled his eyes at the pattern of detrimental behavior his uncle had craved through his life, "well once Peter found out about my relationship with Paige, he convinced me that the best way to keep her safe was to turn her.”  
“That is ridiculous, why?” She rolled her eyes.  
“There was a lot going on back then. My mom was the Alpha and she was greatly respected by packs from all over. She was a valued arbitrator and there were a lot of land disputes and territory issues going on so she was handling them. That was the first time Kali and Ennis and Duecalion came around. They all still had packs then and we were on the cusp of a war. Of course, I wasn't supposed to know any of this but,” he scoffed, “Well it is hard to keep secrets in a house of werewolves and Peter loved to share information if he thought it would make his machinations easier. He convinced me that she would be safer, that she would be able to be with me forever, if she was a wolf. Eventually I agreed. He was my uncle and I trusted him. I thought he was looking out for me and for Paige.”  
“Your mom?” She was hesitant, not wanting to hear the rest of this.  
“No, I knew that she would never agree to do that, she would never force the bite on someone,”  
“Wait, Paige didn't know? What you are?” Lydia interjected, her shock evident on her face.  
Looking down in shame, he shook his head, “Peter convinced me not to tell her, convinced me that she would reject me if she wasn't like me.”  
“So if not your mother then who?”  
“Ennis,” he whispered, “He had lost a beta because of us and he agreed to bite Paige as a replacement. I didn't actually know the details at the time, Peter worked all of that out. When I knew he was going to bite her I changed my mind. I tried to protect her Lydia, I swear,” he had tears in his eyes now as he nearly begged her to believe him, “I tried to fight him off of her and get her out of the school but,” he swallowed a sob, “I couldn't. I was too weak and he bit her.” Now Lydia's eyes were wide with horror as she listened, “What happened?” She whispered.  
“She, well the bite didn't take. She was dying so I took her to,”  
“The Nematon,” Lydia whispered, the pieces falling in place.  
“Yes," he nodded, "we used to sneak down there, I didn't know what it was then, I thought it was just part of the old tunnels around the house. She was in so much pain and she begged me, she begged me to end it.” A sob escapes as he says, “So I did. I killed her. Peter came and took her body and my mom came and got me. She, she told me I wasn't a monster but I knew I was. After that I was so messed up that Kate just walked right in and she was so much stronger than I was at the time I thought she would be safe. Then she murdered my family and I knew,” he looked at her, “Lydia everyone I love dies. Paige, my family, my pack,” he had this desperate tone that nearly broke her heart, “When we started our affair, I thought it could be casual, that it was a release for both of us but then,” he sighed, as if he was trying to find the words, “Do you remember that day when it was raining and Isaac was missing and you came over?”

She nodded, she remembered the day well because it was the day that something changed in their relationship. She had been out shopping, idly killing time and she had an overwhelming feeling of emptiness pass through her. She wasn't sure why but she thought instantly about Derek, as if she could feel him in her head. Looking back, she now realized it was because he was in trouble, because she was his family’s banshee, but that was before she knew any of that. She had paid for her purchase and hurried out of the shop, walking quickly to her car in the downpour. She drove to his building and exited the car in a daze, like she was being pushed by some other force. Climbing the stairs quickly, she entered the loft to find him pouring over maps and old books. Walking up to him, damp from the rain, she slipped her arms around him as he turned to face her, neither of them speaking yet. She hugged him to her, just knowing somehow that he needed the reassurance. He hugged her back, holding her close and breathing her in. The sniffing thing was something that Lydia knew should be weird, but somehow she had just accepted it. He sniffed her all the time, smelling her hair, burring his nose in her throat or, in more intimate moments, between her thighs as he licked and suck her into oblivion.  
“God I needed you,” he whispered into her hair before sliding his hands up her back and lifting her off the ground so that he could kiss her. Something about the way he held her was more desperate, more intense than normal. They had been sleeping together for a little over a month and Lydia had found that his moods affected the way he was with her. Sometimes it was fierce and full of fury, sometimes it was gentle and slow, he would take his time and pull her apart bit by bit until she felt like a puddle of goo. Other times it was just fucking, animalistic and rough. That was not to say he didn't let her take the lead, because he was willing to let her set the pace as well. He was content to allow her to come to him and take charge, setting a violent pace when she had frustrations to release and slowly make love to her when she needed to be worshiped. The great thing was that he was intuitive enough about it to understand when she needed to take the lead and secure enough to let her. This time was different though. He was worried, more scared than she had seen him because now Isaac was missing too and she could see the simmering panic in his eyes. Lifting her into the table, he started explaining that Isaac a traced a lead on Erica and Boyd and that he hadn't heard from him in two days. He never talked this much so she just listened, nodding when appropriate. Once he was done, she smiled sadly at him, “Isaac will be okay, you'll see.” She kissed him gently, thinking that would be it, but suddenly he deepened the kiss, pulling her to his chest and lifting her again.  
They ended up in bed, which was not unusual, but what was different was the fact that their eyes never left each other's. They moved in tandem, drawing every ounce of pleasure from each other as they faced each other in the center of his bed, their moans and cries echoing around them in the apartment. Something about this felt more naked, more exposed than ever before and Lydia could feel something change between them. Emotions were coming into play, she could feel her heart opening up for this man as their hips rocked together and his fingers dug into her flesh as if she was the only thing holding his world together at this moment. She felt as if their hearts were beating in sync, their bodies thrumming together as her nails sunk into the skin of his back as he pushed her over the edge, allowing her fall back other to the bed, he guided her down to the pillow, her hair spilling around her as he continued to move inside of her. He kissed her fiercely, murmuring words that she couldn't quiet make out over the pounding of her pulse in her ears before they fell over into bliss again. 

After the rush of completion left them both shaking, Lydia continue to grip him, holding him to her chest, reveling in the weight of his body on hers for just a moment more. Neither of them willing to break their connection just yet, as he pulled back from kissing her, still buried in her body, Lydia felt the words leaving her mouth before her brain had processed them, “I could love you forever,” she sighed and he had kissed her again, more passionately and with more promise than she had ever felt. Although she didn't understand it, she knew something beautiful had happened in that room that day. Little did she know it would be the last time she made love to Derek Hale, it would be the last real conversation she had with the man. Two days later, Isaac was returned by Braeden and Derek told her that he should have never allowed himself to start sleeping with her; that she was too young and too fragile and he would never be with her, that their relationship was just a convenient way to relieve frustration and that it was over. The next time she saw him after that was at school after Braeden bruised her arm and he acted as if she was a nuisance, throwing Peter into her face even though he knew how much the thought of his uncle hurt her.  
Nodding to him, she pulled herself out of the memory, “Yeah, I remember, the last time I was a 'convenient way to get your rocks off'” she snapped.  
Running his hands over his face, Derek sighed, “Lydia, I,” he tried to catch her eyes but she avoided them, “I am sorry I said that.”  
“No, I get it,” she looked at the ground, “I said something that was too close to feelings and you didn't want that. You wanted a casual hook up and I was a silly human girl who let my heart involved. I was stupid, but don't worry, I learned my lesson,” She assured in a voice that sent a shiver through the room.  
“No Lydia,” he took a step forward, “I was scared because I felt everything that you did that day. Yeah, we started out as a casual hook up, a way to relieve the stress of our lives but, something changed and we both felt it that day. When you said that, you were saying what I felt too, but,” her eyes widened as she looked up at him, “But I couldn't let that happen. I couldn't love you because” he sighed again in frustration, “because everyone I love dies. I got Isaac back and we found Erica dead and I couldn't bury you too, so I pushed you away, I pushed Isaac away too because I didn't want anything else to happen to either of you.”  
“So you pushed us away, you went out of you way to either avoid me or be a complete dick to me but you still think it is okay to sleep with the dararch, who killed plenty of people by the way since you want to throw Aiden in my face,” she said coldly.  
With a huff, Derek runs his hand over his face, “Damn it Lydia that was different,” he starts.  
“No, if you think you get to judge and shame me for who I sleep with then I get to do the same to you. You dumped me because you thought you could have feelings and then a week later you start sleeping with Ms. Blake and you are ready to confess your undying devotion to her. Even after you found out what she was, you still played along,”  
“She said she could save Cora,” he yelled.  
“But she didn't Derek,” she spun on him, her tone exasperated, “she didn't help Cora and you didn't kill her even though she killed a dozen people and she had everyone else's parents hostage and she was a bad guy,” she yelled back before suddenly turning pale and running past him into the bathroom. 

Looking after her in confusion for a second Derek realizes what is going on as he hears her start to wretch. Moving quickly to the bathroom, he kneels behind her and lifts her thick hair away from her face and holds it back much more effectively that she had been doing with her right hand as her left hand clutched at the bowl trying to steady herself as she threw up. Being a werewolf meant that Derek had vomited relatively few times in his life and as he watched the redhead wretch, he was infinity grateful. Rubbing her back uselessly as she sobbed through vomiting, he felt an overwhelming guilt. He had attacked her, been screaming at her and trying to make her understand his point of view but he had never considered hers. He knew he had hurt her, first by pushing her out of his life after she opened her heart to him and then by using her the night of Boyd's death and rejecting her so harshly. But looking at her now, pathetically gagging as she cried over the toilet, he realized that he had done the same thing that everyone else in her life had—asked her to trust him and then broken and abandoned her.  
Beyond that he still used her abilities to help the pack when they were useful, he forced her to be around Peter and he never considered how that made her feel. Now he wanted her to trust him again when he hadn't even thought about the fact that, while he was trying to protect his pack in all of this, she was trying to protect her child. She had more to lose than the rest of them because her baby had already been put in the crossfire more than once because of this. Jennifer had tried to kill her and then she had been through the stress and pain of the final fight with the Alphas and of the shootout the other day. It was a miracle that her baby had made it this far and now she was sick. Sophia had said she was malnourished and dehydrated, seeing her puke made him understand why.  
As she panted for breath, she seemed to finish, reaching up, she flushed the toilet and tried to calm down. Leaning over, Derek turned on the tap and searched around for a cup, leaving her momentarily to collect a glass from the kitchen he washed it out and filled it with cool water, handing it to her before running a rag through the water as well and pressing it to the back of her neck like he had seen his mother do when he was a child. It seemed to help and after a few minutes she had rinsed out her mouth and was quietly sipping her water, her breathing and pulse slowed back to normal. Lifting her gently, he brought her back into the living room and wrapped a blanket around her on the pallet in front of the fire. Putting another log on the fire, he sat down facing her, pushing a lock of hair back he sighed, “I'm sorry, I,” his eyes wondered down again, “I didn't even think about your,” he searched for the right word.  
Scoffing gently she rolled her eyes, “My delicate condition?” She mocked with no venom, “You can say it Derek, my baby.”  
Nodding he relented, “Your baby, I didn't even think about your baby. I just,” he looked at her again, “I wanted you to understand why I did what I did, but the truth is, it is not an excuse. I should have never treated you the way I did and I am sorry. I have been worried about my pack and Cora and being an Alpha then not being an Alpha that I really hadn't considered the fact that you have gone through all of this bullshit alone and pregnant. You deserve far better and I am sorry.”  


Nodding after a moment, she seemed to consider his words, “I am sorry that Paige died, and I understand your reasoning for pushing me away, but it doesn't excuse the fact that you got scared of my feelings for you, so you used them to hurt me and then when I moved on you threw it in my face. I am working on forgiving you, because I think in your own, really stupid way, you were trying to protect me. But Derek, no more, okay,” she turns his chin so he is looking her in the eye, “If I am going to be a part of this, I am all in, no more pushing me away or kicking me out or forgetting that I exist. The universe has forced me to be a part of this and if I have all of the information I can make informed decisions and that is the best chance I have of keeping myself and my daughter safe. You may not think of me as pack, and you may never, but I am tied to your family which means I am tied to you, no matter what either of us wants. I need to be informed so that I don't end up having to drive to fucking Mexico in the middle of the night to bail you and uncle creepy out.”  


Chuckling at her description, he nodded, “Okay, but you're wrong, and so was I, you are pack, you always were, that is what I didn't understand. I was so scared of my feelings for you that I didn't realize how important you were to the dynamic of the group.” He seemed like he was just coming to understand this now, “I screwed up by accusing you of not caring about Boyd and I had no right to judge you based on your choices after we ended, I’m sorry.”  
“God you're stupid,” she rolled her eyes.  
“So you keep saying,” he mumbles.  
“No, you don't see that the guys I hooked up with, were about trying to feel better because I thought that if I let myself trust someone again it would kill me. So I did what my mom does, I had my fun and I stayed in control. Until the night Boyd died, then I gave that control over to you and you used it to hurt me again. Derek, I am not sure I can forgive you for what you said to me. I tried to help and I left thinking that you hated me,” her voice wavered.  
“Wait,” he whispered, “That is what you meant on the phone?”  
Nodding she turned her watery eyes to him, “Yeah, I thought that you couldn’t forgive me for sleeping with Aiden and I hated myself for caring because it was none of your fucking business.”  
“Why would you think that?”  
“Um because you told me to go back to him when you called me a whore?” She scoffed.  
“God, I just,” running his hands over his face, he looked like he wanted to cry, “Lydia I didn't mean any of that, I just,” looking down, “I still had Boyd's blood on my hands, I know that Aiden and Ethan held my claws but I still felt them sink into Boyd, I watched the life drain out of him, I felt his life force transfer into me,” swallow his emotion he met her eyes, “I couldn't live if that happened to you, I knew that, so I said the worst thing I possibly could to hurt you so you would go away and never come back. I was trying to protect you,” he scoffed.  
“Well you were trying to protect me from the wrong thing because your girlfriend was the one who almost did me in,” she fiddled with the edge of the blanket wrapped around her, “Okay, this argument is just going to keep going circles. I will work on forgiving you if you work on forgiving yourself,” she meets his eyes, “But if you ever try that again, banshee or not, I walk.”  
Nodding he agrees, “Okay.”  
Noting the look on his face, she asks, “What?”  
“Um,” he looks slightly embarrassed, “It's just,”  
“Spit it out,” she rolls her eyes.  
“Did you," he looks down awkwardly, "when you slept with me after Boyd died, did you know that you were pregnant?”  
Rolling her eyes she tried to act aloof, but the truth is he is asking too many questions about the baby, “Yes,” she says curtly before standing, needing to put some distance between them.  
Turning as a thought occurred to her, she tilted her head, “Wait, you said you could feel Boyd's life force transfer into you?”  
Looking slightly uncomfortable, he nodded, “Yeah, Duecalion figure it out, if you kill your own Beta's you can absorb their power.”  
“And you gave up your Alpha power to save Cora?” She questioned.  
“Yeah, well that is what Peter said, that it was the only way to heal her,” he answered, not sure where she was going with this.  
Rolling her eyes again she growled, “God when are you going to stop believing that asshole?”  
“What?”  
“I think I know what's wrong with you,” she sighs, “But you are not going to like it.”


	8. Chapter 8 Trust and Trees

Chapter 8

 

Stiles tried to repress his urge to fidget at the table as they ate lunch with several members of the Luna pack. Cora had her left hand lightly gripped around his knee as if she was trying to tether him to reality before his mind made up scenarios that would only lead to panic and trouble. He appreciated the effort and the make out sessions but his anxiety grew with every minute that Lydia and Derek were missing. They had explained what happened last night to Isaac and Braeden and begrudgingly to Peter before breakfast. Once they were asked by Sophia where Derek and Lydia were, they had filled in the others. The guarded looks that Sophia and James had shared as well as the few pack members that were suspiciously missing from the lunch table made Stiles' skin itch to get out of here. Every instinct he had was telling him to call Scott. He desperately wished that he had access to the resources he had collected over the last eighteen months since their lives went all horror show so he could research this pack. It was with that thought that he started to form a plan. A plan that he was certain that Cora and Peter were going to hate but Lydia was in danger, they all were and he had a feeling that none of them knew just how much trouble. After hastily finishing his meal, he whispered to Cora that he was going to run to the bathroom and take a shower. Once his excuse was accepted and the water was running to block anything he dialed a number that he hadn't expected to need again. After a few minutes, a voice answered from the other side.

“Hello,” it offered.

“Allison, I need your help,” he started.

 

 

 

The storm raged particularly loud as Derek's brow furrowed at Lydia's exclamation.

“What do you mean?” He shook his head at her swift transition.

“When you killed Peter, you took his Alpha power right?”

Nodding he repressed the scowl that he felt coming on, she was close to forgiving him, he didn't need to ruin it now even though he hated talking about this stuff.

“I know that when he bit me, he created a link between us,” she was pacing.

“Wait, that is what he did?” Derek had never really understood this part.

“Yeah, he bit me because he knew I had the potential to become a banshee but that potential has to be awoken so to speak. The old myths all talk about women losing their families or being abandoned by men but, the only strand of common truth I have found is that they tend to be abandoned after being attacked. We are born fae, but we are dormant until trauma activates us.”

“That is awful,” Derek wrinkles his nose.

“Yeah, I was there,” she deadpans and he blushes “Sorry, I just, Peter sucks.”

“Yeah he does,” she nods moving past his comment. “I think that when he used me to resurrect him, he may have made me form a blood bond between you and him. I think that you are not healing and that you can't shift into Alpha form because your power is being blocked.”

“Wait,” he moves toward her, stopping her pacing, “You think I am still an alpha?”

“Of course,” she looked at him with a tilt of her head, “That kind of power doesn't just go away. You gave a lot of your energy to save your sister but Alpha power can't be transferred like that, you know that it can only be taken by death or submission.”

Running his hands through his hair, he sighs, “Okay, how I do fix this, and” he drops his hands, “How do I figure out how to co-exist with Scott as an Alpha. A pack can't have two Alphas.”

Lydia chuckled, “Derek, that is and has always been your problem—it is not how do _you_ fix it, it is how do _we_ fix it. Besides, when has this pack done anything normal? It _can_ happen, the Alpha pack was a thing, you just have to learn how to work together. That has always been the stumbling block because you and Scott are much stronger when you function as a team instead of working against each other. You need to forgive him for his betrayal with Gerard and he needs to make peace with what he is. I think you both are big enough men to do that, but we will deal with that when we get home,” she crosses her arms and looks at him, “Right now, we need to figure out what has you blocked.” Derek felt suddenly uncomfortable with her gaze, like she was analyzing him like an experiment.

“Um, I don't know what,” he started, resisting the urge to squirm under her scrutiny.

“Shh,” she whispered, never losing her focus as she moved forward.

“What are you,” he started to ask only to be shushed again. After a few more awkwardly quiet minutes, Lydia's eyes seemed to regain focus as she looked at him.

“Lydia, what was that?” He asked softly.

“I have been looking into banshee lore,” she starts with a bit of hesitation.

“Yeah, you mentioned the myth earlier, you have been researching a lot,” he comments, wanting to open the door for her to talk.

“Yeah well I got pregnant and that wasn't supposed to be possible so I read everything I could get my hands on,” she said flippantly before quickly shifting her focus, “I have been experimenting with my abilities, mostly to see what it true and what is bs. One of the things I have figured out is auras.”

“Auras, like the light that people have around them, you can see that?” He asks hesitantly.

She nodded, “Can you?”

“Yeah, I can,” he answered shyly. “But not all wolves can. It is something that my mom could do, so could my sisters and I but Peter has never mentioned it.”

Quirking her eyebrow she commented, “Interesting.” Filing that away for further exploration before continuing, “Well you have a big gray spot in your aura, particularly in the area that your power is expressed in. Basically, someone is intentionally blocking you right now.” She explained.

“You think that is Peter?” He asked.

“No,” she shook her head curtly, “I think Peter is draining your chi in order to gain power. He is not as weak as he is pretending to be by far, but I think you are blocking your abilities right now.”

“What?” He scoffed, “How could I block myself? Why would I even if I could?”

“It is just like when Scott wouldn't heal,” she explain and he cut her off, “Wait, when could Scott not heal?” He asked concerned.

Sighing, she bit back the smart remark about him banging Ms. Blake and answered, “When he thought you were dead, he thought it was his fault and he couldn't heal because his mind wouldn't let him.”

“Oh, I,” he processed that information, “I didn't know that. How did he get over it.”

“I think that part of it was the fact that his body was on overload because he was transitioning to an Alpha so he was weaker than usual but then he allowed his guilt and his belief that he was at fault for your death to hurt himself physically in the same way he was hurting emotionally. In the end, Allison is what helped, like she always does for him no matter what they try to tell themselves.” She explained before sighing and squaring her shoulders, “So,” her eyes fixed him in place, “What is overwhelming you psychologically?”

A look of shear terror crossed his face before he looked away, rubbing his hands over his face. Lydia knew that Derek had enough pain and guilt in his life to drive a flock of monks mad but there was something that was blocking him now and it was becoming more and more dangerous because his wound was not healing and the infection was spreading.

Focusing on his aura again, she looked at the strings reaching out. Webbing reaching for his pack, for Peter, for Cora, for her. The colors ebbed and flowed with his heart beat, flowing from him in beautiful spirals, pulling at her. Suddenly, Lydia felt the world spin a bit as dizziness over took her. Her eyes rolled closed for a moment and when she opened them again, she looked up to Derek staring down at her with terror.

“Lydia what the hell is going on with you?” He asked, his voice thin and breathless.

Something about the naked fear in his eyes made her drop her guard for a moment and admit, “I don't know,” her voice cracking a bit, “Something is pulling at me.” her hands drop to her belly.

Guiding her to the nest of blankets on the floor, Derek takes her in. She is paler than normal and the circles under her eyes are heavy.

“Lydia, I know that you don't want to talk about the baby but,” he looks down again at her middle before pulling one of her hands away and closing his own around it, “I think you need to tell me how long this has been going on. When did you start getting sick?”

Breaking eye contact, she looked down to their hands, still loosely intertwined and she took a sharp breath, “I think,” she sighed, she couldn't do this, “I think I am just hungry. I haven't eaten since before we got here.” She said absently.

Taking her avoidance for what it was, Derek nodded and accepted that she wasn't ready to talk about it. Standing he needed to put some distance between them so he went into the small kitchen and began rummaging through the cabinets. It was clear that this cabin belonged to someone but it did not have the dull hum of electronic surveillance that the Luna compound did so he didn't know if it belonged to them. He found some can goods and nonperishables that looked new enough to be eaten. Looking over the cans, he settled on chicken noddle soup and tea. Filling the tea pot with water from the tap, he put it on the hook over the fire before digging out a cast iron pot to warm the soup in. Collecting mugs, bowls and spoons he washed everything and then moved back to the fire. Opening the cans he added the soup and several canned vegetables into the pot. Putting the pot of soup into the fire he removed the kettle and poured it into the mugs over the tea bags. Looking up, he asked, “Sugar?”

Nodding, Lydia watched his methodical movements entranced. It seemed so normal, so pedestrian, to make soup and tea but it struck her as overwhelmingly sweet—he was worried about her so he was feeding her.

Lydia took the offered tea cup with a quiet “Thank you,” and sipped it in contemplation.

“About a month,” she said so softly that he would have missed it over the fire and the howling wind if it wasn't for his werewolf hearing.

“Okay,” he said without prodding, knowing that she was going to have to say this on her own.

“When I found out I was pregnant I expected to get sick, but I didn't. I never even felt bad at first. Once I was in my second trimester, when most people get over morning sickness, that is when it hit me.” She explained and Derek, while in no way an expert on pregnancy, tried to figure out how far along she was. He figure it was around four months because she said she was out of her first trimester and it had been about a month. Doing the math in his head he fought his doubts and hoped against hope that Aiden wasn't her child's father, even if it was looking more likely.

  
“Did anything specific happen before you got sick the first time?” He asked gently, stirring the soup.

“Yeah,” she whispered, bring her fingers to caress the scar around her throat.

“Oh,” he nodded, looking away from her not quite hiding the shame on his face.

“Yeah,” she looked down. “After that it happened a few times but it didn't get really bad until after the fight with the Alpha pack,” she explained more to the blanket that she was fiddling with the edge of than to him. Nodding he heard what she wasn't saying—when everyone left her alone.

“Well,” he hesitated, not wanting to rip open issues that they were just trying to repair, “It may be because you were being isolated.”

“I'm sick because I am lonely,” she scoffed.

Sighing, he tried to tread lightly, “No, if the baby is a werewolf, and even if you don't want to talk about that, Sophia seems to think it is, then being alone would affect it.”

Looking to him, she tilted her head, “What do you mean?”

“Well,” he looked to the fire for answers, “We,” he was at a loss for words when suddenly the room seemed to shift and Lydia found herself in the darkness of the woods in front of the Nematon in Beacon Hills.

“ _Hello Lydia,” A raspy voice said from behind her. Looking to the sound, Lydia is taken by the woman before her. She is tall and fit, long black hair rolling over her shoulders and down her back and wide brown eyes that seem to see into Lydia's soul. She is dressed in a green silk robe that drags the ground but somehow she makes it seem elegant. As she moves closer to the banshee, Lydia can't help but admire her grace. “It is nice to meet you,” she offers a gentle smile._

“ _I,” she mutters, “who are you?”_

_The woman flashes her eyes red and suddenly the pieces fell into place, “Talia?” Lydia asked._

_Smiling again, “Yes.”_

“ _You have been trying to reach me,” Lydia prompted, not sure what was going on. Looking at the woman, she took in her high cheek bones, straight nose, curve of her lips. Duecalion was right, Derek did look like his mother. Everything but the eyes, those must have been from his father. It struck her for a moment that Derek had never mentioned his father._

“ _I need your help banshee, to protect my boy,” As the alpha looked over the petite redhead, suddenly Lydia felt as if she was being weighted and measured, as if she was being judged. She repressed the urge to rub her belly, not wanting to draw more attention to her situation. “I think you have a vested interest in saving him as well,” she continued without judgment in her tone._

“ _I want to help Derek,” Lydia nodded, “But I don't know what is blocking him. I think it is his own guilt about something but he doesn't want to admit it.”_

_Nodding, Talia circled the girl, “True, he is blocking his own healing abilities and my viper of a brother is feeding off of that,” coming to face the girl again, “but Derek, he has always worried too much, carried to much pain, been far too stubborn. He thinks too hard and blames himself for things that are not within his control. He always has,” she chuckled, “I swear that boy came out of me with a scowl and he was introspective even as a child. Mothers feel their children's pain, we all do,” she reached her hand out and cupped Lydia's belly, the feeling somehow relaxing the girl, “You understand that. Your girl is reaching out to you, letting you know what she needs,” smiling, she pushes a lock of Lydia's hair back with her free hand, running her thumb along the girl's pale cheek bone, “You and my boy are too much alike. You both cling to your pain like a shield, like it will protect you, but it is just making the both of you weak.” Stepping back and dropping her hands from Lydia, Talia sighed, Lydia's body seemed to want to follow the comfort that the Alpha offered, an overwhelming maternal affection, “If you want to help my son, if you want to help your pack, you need to guide them. Tell them what you know, tell them what you feel. You have been gifted with the abilities you need to correct the mistakes of the past and prevent them from repeating. If you want to create a safe place for your child and my own, you need to trust yourself and trust him.”_

“ _I,” Lydia looked down, not wanting to say that she didn't know if she could trust Derek, or anyone for that matter, ever again._

“ _Lydia, we all have scars,” running her finger gently over the thin angry line at Lydia's throat sent a shiver through the banshee, “But they are there to remind us that we are survivors,” Lydia smiles softly at the statement, so similar to her own after the attack, “Remind my Derek of that.” She smiled as darkness closed in on the forest, “Trust your instincts Lydia, you will know when the time is right.”_

 

Opening her eyes again, she sees Derek kneeling in front of her, cupping her face, “Lydia, Lydia can you hear me?”

Looking around for a moment she realizes that she is leaning against the brick wall to the left of the fireplace, she lets out a breath and sinks into his touch, nodding, “Sorry, that keeps happening. How long was I out for?”

“A few minutes,” he watches her closely, knowing that she didn't just blackout. She blinks a few times before nodding as if she is processing something in her mind. “I think we should get some food in you and then maybe try to get some rest okay,” he offers, truly worried about her now.

Nodding she smiles, “Thank you,” she turns her head, kissing the inside of his wrist where his hand is still cupping her face. He smiles for a moment at the unexpected gesture before moving to the fire and serving the soup into a bowl, “I don't know how good it is, but it is what we have,” he says as he hands her the bowl gingerly, not wanting to spill the hot liquid on her.

“I am sure it is fine, thank you,” she smiles gratefully. Blowing on a spoon full, she takes a bite and cannot help the moan that comes from her throat, “Oh this is great!” She delights around another bite, giggling, “How did you make this out of random cans in an abandoned house.”

Smiling shyly, he looks at his own bowl, “It is nothing special, I just did the best I could with what I had. You needed to eat, that was what is important.”

“Seriously Derek, thank you for all of this. Thanks for the soup and for coming to find me when no one would have faulted you for letting me wonder around in this storm and thank you for not pushing me to answer things I am not ready to talk about.”

Considering her words, he nods and they continue eating in silence for a while. “Derek what were you saying earlier, you know before,” she gestured toward the wall she woke up leaning on, “about,” her hand found her bump again.

Looking down he considered his words, not wanting to spook her, “Wolves are pack animals, we need a pack to keep us strong. One of the reasons Peter killed my sister was because she wouldn't turn anyone else to build strength within our pack. Together we were barely more than Omegas, so he lured her back to Beacon Hills and murdered her.”

“So that is why he went after Scott,” Derek nodded and she continued, “And why you turn Erica, Isaac and Boyd so quickly.”  
He nodded, “And Jackson,” he whispered, not wanting to leave out one of his greatest screw ups.  
She nodded, understanding he need to add Jackson, “And Jackson. Derek, I get why you did that, even if Scott can't see it. I observe a lot more than people give me credit for and I know that you offered them the bite and they wanted it. Yes they strengthened you as an Alpha and with Gerard Argent in town, you needed to strengthen the pack for everyone even if Scott didn't see that. But the other part of the story is that they all benefited from that too, Isaac is safe for the first time in his life, he has control. Erica was free of an illness that paralyzed her for years and Boyd finally had a family, even after he lost most of his. He had someone to sit with at lunch and he had friends. You cannot take the blame of their deaths on yourself but refuse to see the life that you gave them.”

“What about Jackson?” He fought to keep the break out of his voice, “I didn't help him.”

Scoffing, Lydia sat her now empty bowl to the side, “Derek I know Jackson better than anyone, even himself sometimes and his issues were set in deep long before you met him or he ever even suspected something was up with Scott McCall. In the end you taught him how to control the wolf, how to use his new abilities without having them exploited. Everyone could have handled that situation better, but Jackson becoming the Kanima is something that no one could have expected.”

He let her words filter through his head, processing them, after a moment he nodded, not sure if he believed her but willing to let her believe in him even when he didn't. “Well, anyway, we are strengthened by pack, by having our families close. That is innate and it is something that we need from before birth. Babies need to bond with their pack and if they don't then,”

“Then it doesn't work out well,” Lydia echoed Sophia's words. “Sophia said that she should be fine now that I was back with you, so she seems to think that the absence of her father is what is causing it,” Lydia stated more than asked.

“It could be,” he tried to keep the emotion out of his voice, “But not all werewolf babies have fathers, the presence of a strong pack may make the difference.”

“So we need to strengthen this pack,” Lydia says finitely, understanding that she needs to work with Derek to better their pack if she is going to save her child and the rest of them. Looking at him, she smiles, “Derek the pack needs to strengthen, not just for me and my girl, but for all of us.”  
He nods, taking her bowl and placing it in the sink, “I think your right. Part of the reason I was too weak to help my sister is because the pack had fallen apart.”

“Yeah, and Peter was sucking the life out of you,” She didn't bother to hide her contempt of the other wolf.

“How do we fix that?” He wondered.

Sighing, she rubbed her belly, “I have a few ideas,”

Chuckling he added, “Ones that don't involve ripping his throat out again?”

Laughing, she smiled at him, “Look at you, making a joke.”

“I can joke,” he defended, putting on his most dower face causing Lydia to burst out laughing in completely unladylike snorts. Dropping to the blankets beside her he pulled her to him, laughing with her, “God I've missed you,” he whispered without really realizing what he was saying. Her laughter settled into a smile as she looked at him, acting on instinct she leaned forward, pressing her lips to his for the first time in weeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what do you think?


	9. Trust and Lust

Chapter 9

After a disturbing conversation with Stiles, Allison had quickly called Scott asking him to come over to her house because she needed to talk to him. The last few months had been hard for them all, but Allison felt like she had no idea where she stood with any of the pack. After her mother's death she had been so lost and so out of control that she had allowed Gerard and his ideology to influence her much more than she ever thought possible. After her grandfather's real plans had come to light, it was like a betrayal, not only of her but of everything her family had believed in. She had clung to the code as a justification for her families actions, even when she didn't agree with them. Her mother killed herself for the damn code and Gerard had encouraged it but in the end all he had wanted was to save himself by forcing Derek to bite him.  
Sighing, Allison thought about Derek. God, talk about a complicated situation. Her family had twisted and taken from him in every way possible. Kate had coerced him into a sexual relationship when he was way younger than her and then murdered almost all of his family, then Gerard had used Scott to force Derek again, to use his own body against him when he forced him to bite the old man. Allison didn't think that Scott even understood the type of violation that he had been part of, but she understood. She understood and because of that she was willing to drive to Mexico to try to get them out of this mess.  
She heard Scott enter the apartment, not even bothering with the pretense of knocking and she felt her heart flutter. She had no idea where she and Scott would end up but she knew that her feelings were far from simple and far from gone. She had stuck to her game plan. She had stayed strong and attempted to be more like Lydia, more independent and comfortable in her own skin, but it was a lie. A lie that she had to admit to herself the day that he had come over and they had hidden in the closet. The feeling of him pressed against her, hard and hot and so right as she pushed back against him while they waited for the coast to clear. God, even the memory had her body twitching in places that it hadn't in far too long. 

She missed him. She missed him so much and not just the sex, even though, there were not even words for how much she missed that, she just missed Scott. The sweet boy who was content to hold her hand and push her hair out of her eyes and listen to all of her rambling thoughts. The boy who had snuck into her room every night before she went to France and held her while she cried for her mother, the woman who she later found out had tried to kill him. He never told her that her mother had tried to kill him even though it would have made his life easier and saved everyone else pain, because he didn't want to taint her memories of her mom. How did he exist? A guy who wasn't afraid to defer to her or to allow her the space she needed while still being supportive and protective without being overbearing.  
Sure, she had flirted with Isaac a bit, but she knew that they were both too screwed up for anything to ever really work. She had disemboweled him, she couldn't really date him. But, perhaps, they could be friends and that could smooth the way for her to continue working with Scott's pack and maybe, eventually, she and Scott could work things out.  
Turning from the safe that she was raiding, she looked to him, standing there in jeans and maroon t- shirt, black duffel bag at his feet, and a slightly confuse look on his face, “Allison, what the hell is going on,” he looked to the pile of weapons on the desk and overflowing several bags.  
“Stiles and Lydia are in trouble,” she answered, a little breathless.  
“Where?”  
“Mexico,” she answered flippantly as she zipped closed the last bag.  
“What” he followed her out of the room, grabbing the bags and his own instinctively.  
“Yeah, um, Stiles called and,” she sighed, looking at him, “Look time is of the essence so how about we have this conversation in the car?” She smiled weakly as she grabbed her own duffel bag and yet another bag that Scott could only assume contained some sort of weapons as well.  
“Car to Mexico?” He muttered a little helplessly.  
“Well,” she turned to face him, “Yeah.”  
Exiting her apartment and quickly making their way to the parking garage, Scott was relieved to see that she intended to take one of her father's SUV's because he had brought his bike and he didn't think either of them wanted to take that over 1000 miles. He repressed a chuckle as she tossed her bag on the back seat before popping open the hatch and motioning for him to meet her as she started tucking the bags of weapons he was holding into hidden compartments.  
At his smirk, she shrugged, “What, my dad is an arms dealer, not all of his clients live in places that it is easy to carry weapons.”  
“Amazingly that is the least weird thing about your family,” he chuckled, helping her load the heavy bags before tossing his own in the backseat with hers and climbing into the passenger seat. As they pull out of the parking deck, she hooks her phone into the navigation system, an address already input and she follows the automated directions. As they pass the “Now Leaving Beacon Hills” sign, Scott sighs and looks at her, “So, I think now is a good time to tell me why we are going to Mexico with enough firepower to start a war.”  
“Grab the laptop in my bag,” she gestured to the pink bag she had tossed in the back, “We may have to start a war to get them out of there.” She added ominously. 

 

After kissing him, Lydia had offered him no explanation, she just gave him a small smile and snuggled under his chin, allowing her exhaustion to take over once more. Outside the storm still raged and Derek wondered for a moment if it wasn't the universe's way of trying to get them to work out their issues. She was right though, he needed to fix his pack and until that was done they were all going to be vulnerable. Looking down to Lydia, not bothering to fight the smile that crossed his face as her even breathing tickled his chest and she sniffled in her sleep; awake, she was a force to be reckoned with, asleep, she was adorable.  
Pulling her closer, he sighed. He was worried about her, this baby was hurting her and he didn't know how to fix that. He had told her the truth, not all werewolf babies had fathers—there were plenty of lesbian werewolf pairs who had children and gay pairs who used a surrogate, the difference there was that the surrogate had to be a pack member so that the fathers of the child where there. With lesbian couples, the donor mattered less that the support of the pack and the partner.  
That was the thing that a lot of bitten wolves like Scott didn't understand; being pack was about being family. And right now, Lydia was alone and her baby had no family but her, so it was trying to draw everything out of her and that was killing Lydia. Pressing a kiss to the top of her head, he vowed to fix this mess, no matter what. Even if it took pretending to be the father of her child for the Lunas, no matter how much that was going to hurt him. He knew she was safer with him and their motley bunch of messed up adolescences that she was with the twins, who were now Omegas as well as being murderers and general douche-bags. Just the thought that fucking Aiden was the father of her child felt like Kali was behind him, twisting the metal rod in his back, aiming for his heart. No, if the child growing inside of her wasn't his own then he could simply not allow himself to believe that it was that asshat's progeny. The baby would be his; for the Luna pack and for as long as she would allow it after that. 

Lydia was lost again. She hated this feeling, it was the part of her power that she hated the most honestly. She hated the overwhelming disorientation that came with the spirit world. God, she hated that saying too, “spirit world”, it sounded like a cheap Charmed rip-off but that is what the books all called it. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and tried to find her center. Breathing in again, she caught the smell of the woods and rain and a sweet citusy smell that she could not place. Hearing a light, melodic giggle, she opened her eyes with a slight smile at the sound. Looking down she saw a little girl, no more than three years old. It was the same child she had followed into the woods to start with she remembered. Dark curls and dimples, long eye lashes and pouty lips, fangs and glowing eyes. The child grinned at her and then turned, running at preternatural speed through the dense forest.  
“Wait,” Lydia called, running after her but feeling like she was wading through syrup as the air around her seemed to thicken to separate her from the imp.  
“Wait, who are you,” she yelled helplessly. As the air continued to thickened into a dense fog, she felt herself start to panic. Looking around, the moisture of the air sinking into her white gown, she spun around, seeing nothing but white. Not even the scent of the forest permeated this place.  
“Lydia,” a voice echoed. It was deep and gentle and she knew it from somewhere but she could not quite place it. “Lydia, come play with us,” the voice laughed and the sound felt strange in that tone  
Running towards that voice, the sound of her name rolling over it like honey, she panted to a stop as the fog cleared and she was again in the forest, the whole place painted in vibrant greens. Trying to catch her breath, she realized she was once again at the Nematon. The little girl that she had been chasing was held in the arms of Talia Hale, who was humming to the child softly. The place looked the same but this time Lydia was watching the scene, looking around she realized that several sets of glowing eyes were closing in on Talia and the child from the woods that she had just run through.  
“Keep her safe,” Talia whispered to a tall man with dark hair who was almost completely obscured by shadows before kissing the girl's head and handing her to him.  
“I will,” the voice echoed and again Lydia couldn't place it. The man disappeared with the little girl who, just before they were enveloped by the forest locked eyes with Lydia and screamed.

Lydia felt consciousness hit her like a concrete wall. She sat up screaming, her head thrown back and her blood rushing in her veins. It took her a few seconds to realize that Derek was right there, holding onto her, anchoring her. He was pushing her hair out of her eyes and whispering to her, trying to calm her down even though she knew that the scream had to be painful for him. As her breathing slowed enough to speak, she found his eyes, wide and worried staring at her, “Do you want to talk about it?” He asked without demand.  
Considering his offer, she took a breath and allowed the tears she was trying to repress to flood her eyes, “They are going to try to take her.”  
He cups the back of her head as she drops it to his chest, careful to avoid the wound there.  
“Who?” He asks inquiring after the source of the taking, not needing to ask who would be taken.  
“My baby, they are going to take my baby,” she sobs.  
“Who is going to take it?” He asks again, still gently rubbing her back.  
Looking up, she whispers, “The Luna pack wants her.”  
“Why would they want it? What do they think your baby can do for them?” He asked, not challenging her but with genuine concern.  
Getting a better control, she allows him to wipe the tears from her face, “Her.” She corrects and for a moment he pauses, “Huh?”  
“The baby, you always say 'it' but she is a girl, so her,” she explains gently and he nods, realizing that he has been saying it because he has been trying to distance himself from her baby, to protect himself from the idea that she is having someones else's child. But the reality that the bump isn't just an it, but a little girl, growing inside of Lydia who would soon come out and be a person was somehow hard for him to accept. Nodding again, he offers and apologetic, “Her, sorry, I, well I didn't know that you already knew the gender.”  
Smiling as she caressed her belly, she says, “I knew from the moment I knew about her that she was a girl.”  
Nodding he doesn't comment, he just pushes her hair out of her face and kisses her forehead.  
“Derek I am really scared,” she confesses, trying to repress further tears.  
“And you should be,” he whispers against her skin.  
Looking up, she turns his face so she can clearly see all of it, “So, you don't think I am crazy?”  
Scoffing, he runs his thumb along her cheek, “Lydia, you are anything but crazy. I trust you and I trust your instincts and if you say that someone is trying to hurt you then I know that it is true. You are a lot of things, but crazy has never been one of them.”  
She gasps a bit, like she is going to say something but he cuts her off, “I just hope that you can trust me when I say that I will do anything and everything in my power to protect you and your baby because,” he sighs, “Lydia I know you may never forgive me for what I have done to you, and that is fine. I don't deserve it. But I do care about you and I, well you are part of my pack and I will always protect you. So even if you hate me forever, please don't ever stop trusting that I will never stop trying to take care of you.”  
Sucking in a breath, Lydia is overwhelmed by the sincerity in his words and the openness in his face. She believes him. God help her, she believes him.  
“Okay,” she nodded, taking a deep breath, trying to listen to her gut over her head, “Derek, I know that we have a lot of issues and I have no idea where they are going to land but,” she pushed herself up on her knees, “Derek I believe you. I am trusting that you will keep me safe,” looking down, “And I know she is not your problem, but I am trusting you to help me keep my daughter safe as well.”

“Lydia,” he interrupted her, “Lydia, your baby is my pack. She will never be a problem. You are pack, and you are important to me for so many reasons beyond that and she is a part of you.” Searching for his words, he reached for her knee, “Even if,” he struggled, “Even if she is not mine, until we are out of here, she is. Okay, and we can talk about how everything plays out after we get out of this place but for now, she is mine and you are mine and that is all we can focus on. Keeping both of you safe.”

“Derek,” she sits up higher, trying to balance their height difference and once again lifting his face to hers, she slides her hand down to rest on his throat once his eyes are locked to hers, “Derek, do you want her to be yours?” Her voice trembles with an emotion that neither of them can really place. 

A look of helplessness crosses his face and he nods minutely before she is pressing forward, kissing him again. This time, however, it is not a chaste token of gratitude. This time there is a fire behind her movements that is spreading through his blood, singeing his nerve endings. Before he can process the action, he has slid both hands under her knees, lifting her bodily into his lap and is groping at her, pressing his open mouth to every exposed bit of skin he can touch. Once that is not enough, Lydia is leaning back, pulling his t-shirt over her head and tossing it to the side as he dives back in, his tongue re-familiarizing itself with every nook of her mouth. Breaking for air, he moves down her throat, licking and tasting her, allowing the scent to over take him. He wants to worship her, to make love to her the way he should have the last time he had the opportunity but the forces pushing them into this are impatient and soon they are moving, his hand diving into the sweatpants that she is wearing as his mouth closes around her nipple. Lydia's back arches at the contact and he cannot help the smile that curves his lips as he drags his teeth along the puckered flesh.  
“Oh God,” her pelvis rocks against his as switches nipples, his tongue and teeth driving her mad. She needs to move this along. It has been too long and too stressful and she needs him inside of her now. Yanking his hair, she pulls him back. Derek looks up at her with blissed out confusion on his face as she pulls away to stand. His confusion is quickly replaced as she unties the drawstring on the sweats she is wearing and they drop to the ground quickly. Even pregnant his clothes are still too big for her and suddenly she is standing in front of his completely naked.  
He looked at her with hooded eyes before gasping her hips and leaning forward, pressing his nose between her legs, breathing her in. Her pregnancy hadn't changed her smell like he would have assumed, it had only intensified it. Pressing his lips in, he opened his mouth, licking out to taste her. She rolls her head back as she buried her hands in his hair. Pulling her down at werewolf speed, he guides her to the blankets, settling her on her back before lowering his face to her middle. Stopping on his journey to press random kisses into her flesh, the delicate skin of her throat and breasts. When his fingers find her belly though it is like everything in the room stops and Lydia can only watch as he reverently runs his fingers over the new curve of her body before meeting her eyes and pressing his lips to the taunt skin just below her navel, his eyes flashing blue. She draws in a sharp breath at the sight, her eyes lolling closed and missing his next movement until she feels his tongue tracing her folds, breathing her in and tasting her.  
This was always his favorite part and God was he good at it. Lydia had a theory it was a werewolf thing, something to do with scenting and being territorial and tactile because he had loved going down on her more than any guy she had ever been with and according to Allison, so did Scott. As his tongue made contact with her clit, her whole body tensed and she dug her heels into his shoulders as he licked and sucked every inch of her in the most sinful ways. Before she realized it, she was teetering on the precipice of rapture, as his fingers sunk into her, rocking in and out of her only a few times before she threw her head back, screaming as her orgasm ripped through her body.  
Panting as she came down, she opened her eyes to see Derek kneeling in front of her between her spread legs, now naked, but still waiting for her. Suddenly she understood that he needed this to be her decision, that he needed her to accept this, to accept him again. Shakily she sits up and his eyes follow every movement. Reaching for him, she smiles as he instinctively reaches out, sliding his arms around her and puling her forward to straddle his lap.  
“Lydia, are you sure,” he starts, looking so sad it almost breaks her heart.  
Silencing by pressing her finger to his lip, she smiles, “If I didn't want this, I wouldn't have kissed you.” She answered, pressing their lips together again. “I don't know where this goes from here, but for now I am going to trust my instincts and I am going to trust you,” she whispers as she reaches between them and grips his cock from where it has been pressing insistently into her thigh and lines it up with her body, “I don't hate you.” She murmurs against his lips, “I never could, no matter how much I wanted to,” with that she kisses him again and sinks her body forward, taking him inside of her once more. They move as one, rocking together in a slow, controlled passion that was both practiced and primal.  
Lydia arched as his mouth made its way down the column of her throat and she cried out when he shift her leg just so and thrust into her, hitting all of the right spots. She bit his lip until she tasted blood and their eyes locked as they took from and gave to each other, each of them needing this connection even if it only lasted until they made it out of this storm. They came together, both falling to the nest of blankets around them, spent and sated but still touching and placing small kisses on exposed skin. Even as they drifted off to sleep, their skin was always touching, they never completely lost contact. It was only then, as her senses returned that Lydia's fingers passed over his chest, “Derek,” she whispered, her voice raw.  
“Uh,” he murmured into her hair.  
“Derek, look,” the tone of her voice drew his eyes first to her face and to his chest where the wound that had been festering just to the left of his heart was rapidly healing. The red bands of infection faded and the wound closed.  
“What the hell,” he whispered, looking to Lydia who looked back just as confused.  
“I guess that is one mental block down,” she snarked and he actually laughed before kissing her again. 

 

Somewhere in the middle of Arizona, Allison and Scott were stopped for gas. Scott had ran into the store to pay and use the bathroom while Allison pumped gas. An SUV pulled up opposite her, paying little mind to the girl tiredly pumping gas and pretending to listen to her Ipod as she clocked the military grade armor on the vehicle. 

“According to La Madra there are at least three of them,” A tall, built bald man in his mid-twenties with bronze skin and intense eyebrows said to the other man, who was around the same age but with light hair and fair skin.  
“And their sure,” he said, moving to put the nozzle in the tank.  
“Yeah,” the man nodded, his incredulous tone clear, “The Hales. I haven't heard of any of them in these parts in years.”  
Nodding, the blond man added, “Yeah, I was in school still, but I remember the meetings from the last time they came around, damn, that was one scary bitch,” he shakes his head.  
Chuckling his darker friend nods, “Yeah, even my dad admitted that Talia Hale was the scariest she wolf he had ever faced. She took out an entire team by herself before she escaped.”  
“I heard she was dead though, years back,” his partner leaned against the SUV still holding the pump, “One of the Argents took out the whole lot of them.”  
“Yeah, but I guess not all of them died,” he was riffling though some papers in the passenger seat. “How did they get away?” Blondie asked with a hesitation in his voice.  
“Don't know,” the other man shrugged, “Something about a team breaking them out. La Madra said that she would give the details once we were all there.”  
“Something is not adding up,” the blonde looked to his comrade, “If there are any Hales left, why would they show up here and allow themselves to get caught and then break out. If they had back up, why get caught?”  
“They are just dumb animal Jenkins, don't over think it, just split it in half,” he said with an intensity that Allison knew well. “I'm going to hit the head,” he nodded to the building and the other man nodded back. Once the glass door swung close behind him, Jenkins muttered, “The real question is why didn't La Madra just kill them, why keep them around if they are just dumb animals?”  
So, Allison thought, there was distention in the ranks and clearly her troupes didn't know that she had held Derek and Peter for several days before they escaped. La Madra was obviously trying to get something out of the remaining Hales that she didn't want anyone else to know about. Stiles had said that there was a shoot out and the Platas had lost some soldiers. Allison could see now that this wasn't about the code or balance or territory; this was personal, at least it was for La Madra. And if Allison had learned anything over the last year it was that mixing personal motives and hate mongering never lead to anything but blood and pain.  
Pretending to drop her bag while trying to replace her card, Allison made a silly show of picking up her things, gratefully accepting Jenkins' help collecting her lip glosses and random stuff in her purse while she subtly bugged his SUV with a GPS. Smiling her thanks, she climbed back into her SUV and drove around the building, sending Scott a tense look as he climbed into the passenger side of the car, completely out of sight of the other patrons of the gas station. As they pulled out, she asked, “Did you hear all of that?”  
“Yeah,” he breathed out, “Stiles and Lydia have no idea what they are in for.”  
Looking over at him, she shakes her head, “No, and now that the Luna's know that Lydia is a banshee they are not safe there either.”  
“Scott everything I have read about the Luna pack screams that something else is up with them and La Madra is hiding things from the Plata family. Everyone is hiding something in this situation and we are going to have to figure it out if we are going to get Stiles and Lydia out of there safely.”  
Rubbing his face, he nodded, reaching for her laptop again, “I am going to call Deaton, see what he knows and look over this again. There has got to be something.”  
Nodding Allison added, “Make sure to ask him about some issue that the Hales had with the Plata family about fifteen years ago, I think this is a personal vendetta.”  
“Yeah,” he nodded, “But Stiles said that the Luna pack was pissed that Lydia was there, that she screamed and they knew she was a banshee and they wanted her gone. Something about that isn't adding up either.”  
Shrugging, Allison added, “Why the hell was she there anyway, and why is Stiles there? I mean Isaac I get but how did they get caught up in this? They don't even like Derek.”  
Considering her words, Scott shrugged, “I really wish I knew.” Looking at the brunette, he quirked his head, “I feel like I have no idea what is going on.”  
Chuckling she smiled, “I feel like I haven't known what was going on since last year.”  
Chuckling he nodded, “True.” Smiling at her, he couldn't fight the feeling bubbling in his heart. Reaching for her hand, he twinned their fingers together and looked out at the laptop as they headed over the Mexico boarder.


End file.
